


The Darkness of Being

by cynatnite



Category: Angel: the Series, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barney is a good bro, Clint Needs a Hug, I can't spoil everything in the tags, Loki Does What He Wants, Lots of Angst, M/M, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Not Canon Compliant, Not compliant with anything, Phil and Clint are SHIELD, Protective Phil Coulson, Some feels, Spike is Spike, Surprise another vampire, Suspicious Phil, Vampires, mention of Wolfram & Hart, so that happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-10 02:26:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4373645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynatnite/pseuds/cynatnite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Penn, a bloodthirsty vampire sired by Angel, is brought back from the dead as a human. Angel is desperate to make amends for what he turned Penn into and calls SHIELD Agent Phil Coulson for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raiining](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiining/gifts), [little Alex (litalex)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/litalex/gifts).



> So, after a long hiatus, I've gathered my unfinished fic and am working to get them completed. Including the ones posted currently in desperate need of a satisfying ending. 
> 
> This particular fic has been practically orphaned for over a year. After a badly needed overhaul, I decided to go ahead and post it since it's nearly complete. I will add more tags as needed.
> 
> The story idea was inspired by two fics. 1) [ The Life, Death, and Life (goddammit) of Clinton Francis Pennington Barton](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1112258) 2) [Sinful Salvation](http://archiveofourown.org/works/578758)
> 
> It wouldn't exist without these two talented writers.

**July 2001**

 

There was little hunting for vampires and other such creatures on a night like this. For late July, it was more humid than usual which kept many potential victims home. Angel was relieved and he looked forward to the remainder of the night into the dawn settling down with a book. He said little these days with the loss of Buffy still too raw.

He was almost to the front of the Hyperion Hotel when he saw a huddled figure back in the shadows near the building. Angel approached and as he got closer, overcoat was pulled tighter and bare feet were attempting to push away from him.

“Easy,” Angel said with a tentative hand out.  “You’re safe here.”

The figure shook uncontrollably and trembling hands clutched the coat tighter.  Angel could barely see the top of the head. The short brown hair was wet as if whoever it was had just gotten out of a shower.

Angel kneeled. “My name is Angel.”

The head turned and Angel nearly fell back at the familiar face. “Penn?”

“What did you do to me?” Penn was near tears. His face covered in sweat with dark circles under his eyes. “You did this!”

“How?”

Penn clenched his eyes shut, shook his head back and forth as his body shuddered. “We were fighting, then there was nothing. I woke up cold. Answer me! Why did you bring me back?”

“I didn’t.”

Angel had no other answers for him. Penn had been a psychopathic vampire murdering for over 200 years. It was Kate, a cop he knew, that had ultimately killed Penn. Then Angel realized why he hadn’t felt Penn’s presence. Penn was human.

He watched Penn’s face twist in torment. “Bess! God, I killed Bess, my sister! My brother!”

“You’re not a vampire anymore, Penn. You’re human.”

“Just kill me. Fucking kill me!” Penn was starting to sob.

Without hesitation, Angel went to Penn and took him by the shoulders. The former vampire tried to shake him off, but had little to no strength for which to do it.

“I’m taking you inside,” Angel told him. “Come on.”

“Let me go so I can die!” Penn leaned into Angel as he was walked inside the hotel.

“You don’t get to die tonight.”

~*~

Angel got Penn to one of the rooms and put him to bed. It took little for the former vampire to fall asleep. Whatever had brought him back from the dead had taken a lot out of him. He gathered Cordelia, Fred, Wesley and Gunn outside the hallway. Angel wasn’t ready to leave Penn on his own.

“You’re sure it’s Penn?” Wesley asked.

“I sired him,” Angel answered. He folded his arms and sighed. “Someone brought him back, maybe the same way Darla was.”

“Sounds like a Wolfram & Hart job,” Gunn suggested. “If they know your history, they’d use him to get to you.”

“You’d think if they brought him back like Darla, he’d be out quenching his thirst,” Fred told him. “It’s probably an old Gypsy spell.”

“Not as powerful to bring back a vampire, but enough for a human,” Cordelia said. “So are we going to keep an ex-vampire now?”

“He’s like I was after I got my soul back.” Angel looked through the cracked open door and saw Penn shifting under the covers. “Either way, I’m responsible for him.”

“We should take turns watching him in case he gets a hankering for his vampire roots,” Gunn stated. 

“I’ll see what I can discover about this spell,” Wesley offered. “Angel, it would be helpful to know what he remembers upon waking.”

Angel nodded and went back to the room. He eased into a chair and gazed at Penn. Wolfram & Hart were the likely suspects, but he couldn’t see Lyla’s hand in it. She was more about the big picture with the oncoming apocalypse and his role in it, whatever it was. No, it was someone else.

Penn woke suddenly and jerked upright, breathing hard. He was still covered in perspiration. Anxious eyes were directed at Angel.

“Where am I?”

“It’s called the Hyperion Hotel. I live here with Cordy and a few others.”

“Think you could get me some clothes. I’m getting out of here.”

“Where will you go?” Angel asked. “You’re human. You have no job, no ID, nothing.”

“I’ve managed for over 200 years.” Penn pushed off the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He started to stand, got dizzy and was forced to sit back down.

“Penn, what do you remember when you woke?”

Lowering his head, Penn could only see the blood on his hands, hear the screams in his ears and the taste of death in his mouth.

“I murdered my family.” Tears dropped from Penn’s eyes. “I killed so many people, women, children. God!”

Angel got down on a knee in front of him. “I need you to focus right now. Someone brought you back for a reason and we need to know who and why.”

Wiping his eyes, Penn took a deep breath. “Some guy. It was where we had that fight. I was so fucking cold. All I remember is he had a missing hand.”

“Lindsey,” Angel muttered. He took a seat in the chair and leaned forward. “He was using you to get to me. I don’t think he counted on you coming back human.”

“I remember now.” Penn ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I fought my way out, killed two guards. Not that bastard, though.”

“When you get some rest, we’ll help you get situated, Penn. I’m not leaving you out in the cold.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Penn finally raised his head. “I’m not planning on sticking around.”

“Where are you going?”

“The only place there is for someone like me. Hell.”

Angel leveled his gaze. “I never told you why I changed.”

“Does it matter?”

“Maybe it will to you. I was cursed by Gypsies. I have a soul. I know what you’re going through. It’ll take a while, but you’ll get through this.”

“Did you want to die after all the slaughtering we did?”

“Yes.”

“Obviously not that much.” Penn wasn’t feeling quite as cold. In fact, he felt pretty damn calm. “I’m not living with it. I can’t.”

“Just give it time.”

“You need blood.” Penn tilted his head to bare his neck for Angel. “Take all you want and fucking kill me.”

“No.”

“If you don’t do it now, I’ll do it later.”

There was no doubt in Angel’s mind Penn would do it. Penn was from a Puritan family whose strict moral code had caused the former vampire a lot of pain. He and Penn had a wild history of sex and violence. It had gotten to the point that Penn wanted nothing more than to get back at his own father for condemning his son to eternal damnation for his homosexuality. Stripping someone of their soul would bring out their resentments and anger in the worst possible ways.

“I want a promise from you,” Angel said. “Give me a week. If I can’t come up with something, I’ll let you go and won’t stop you.”

“What do you think you’ll have in a week that’ll change my mind?”

“I don’t know. Will you do it?”

Penn thought for a moment. It wouldn’t matter, he’d still take his own life. Angel was his sire and he owed him that much.

“One week,” Penn agreed.

“Thank you.”

~*~

It was probably one of the worst renditions of “I Will Survive” Agent Phil Coulson had ever heard as he walked into Caritas, the karaoke bar designed specifically for demons and other creatures looking for a place to wind down. He had been told a particularly strong spell forbade the normal malevolent fighting that was usually prevalent with these particular creatures.

When Phil saw Angel at the corner table, he made a beeline. He was eager to get out of the place, but Phil was too professional to let it show.

“Agent Coulson.”

“Angel.” Phil took a seat. “This place doesn’t seem your style.”

Angel glanced around at the various demons and caught Lorne making his way to the stage. “It isn’t, but you are only one of two humans from SHIELD who’d meet me here.”

“Who is the other, if I may ask?”

“Deputy Director Fury.”

“That’s Director Fury now.”

“Tell him congratulations.”

Phil’s small smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not sure if he’d believe you.”

“Well, he did try to stake me the first time we met.”

“That was twenty years ago, Angel. It was agreed that you and SHIELD should keep a distance. Of course, we are keeping an eye on Wolfram & Hart.”

“Thought they were out of your jurisdiction.”

“The senior partners are.” Phil leaned forward and set his arms on the table. “You didn’t ask me here to catch up, did you?”

“No. I have a unique problem which calls for your handling, so to speak.”

“Go ahead.”

“In the late 18th century, I met someone in England in a pub. He was feeling quite murderous towards his father.”

“You were Angelus, if I remember my history.”

Angel nodded. “I sired him.”

“Got more than you bargained for?”

“We spent considerable time together across the continent. I was teaching him the joys of being a vampire.”

The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Phil. Angelus was considered a mythical legend and SHIELD’s documentation was very detailed on the mayhem and murder caused by Angel and his friends before regaining his soul.

“Penn was what you’d call an apt pupil. He took his hatred of his father to a whole new level by reliving killing his family through other victims. It made him unbalanced even by vampire standards.”

“Why did he hate his father?”

“They were a Puritan family. Penn was gay and you can imagine the hell that was.” Angel shifted in his seat. “In most respects, as Angelus, I was the father figure he was seeking approval from. Eventually, we went our separate ways. I didn’t see him again until a little over a year ago when he came to LA.”

“Did he continue to rebel?”

“Yes. I still had my psychic link with Penn and I saw two of the murders in dreams. Felt everything he felt. I finally caught up with him and during the fight he was staked.”

“Interesting story, Angel. It doesn’t explain why you called me here.”

“Do you know Lindsey McDonald?”

“His file has crossed my desk. I believe he made junior partner recently.”

“He brought Penn back through Gypsy magic.”

“Being brought back from the dead isn’t uncommon in our line of work, Angel.”

“The difference is, Penn is human now. He has a soul.”

“Are you sure?”

“He’s living at the hotel for the time being. First chance he gets, he’s planning on killing himself.”

“As payment for the 200 years of slaughter, I take it.”

“He can’t live with what he’s done.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Coulson, before I turned him, Penn was a decent person. If I hadn’t, he wouldn’t have killed his family. He probably would have found a way to have a good life had I left him alone.”

“You believe he didn’t have these psychopathic tendencies as a human?”

“I know he didn’t. Angelus enjoyed watching moral people go against their nature. He reveled in being a catalyst for it.”

“Say you’re right and this Penn is the person he was before. What is your plan for him?”

“Wesley found a series of spells where we can overwrite the memories of the last 200 years with new ones from someone who has already died.”

“That’s quite impressive.”

“Penn may be human, but he’s had 200 years of vampire agility and speed. He’s deadly with knives and bows. Once we give him a new identity, it’ll have to be legitimized. He needs SHIELD, Coulson.”

“Angel, there’s no way SHIELD will put a vampire on the payroll. Even a former vampire would be out of the question.”

“He won’t be even a former vampire. With the memories we place in him, he’ll only know that life. Penn won’t exist. You can train him to be exactly the kind of asset you need for specialized missions with his skills.”

“You feel strongly about this.”

“I’m responsible for him,” Angel told Coulson. “He’ll never have a normal life. With SHIELD, he can do some good. With you, he’ll have someone who can help him through it until he gets his feet under him.”

“Has he agreed to this?”

“Penn doesn’t know.”

Phil sighed and scratched his head. “I want to meet him first. If he agrees and we find an appropriate identity, I’ll take it to Fury. I’m not making any promises, Angel. No matter who he was before being turned, there’s still the countless killing he’s done. That’s a lot of blood to wipe away.”

Angel nodded. “I’ll take you to him.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Phil entered the room to meet Penn, two things struck him almost immediately. The eyes, filled with so much torment and anguish were still beautiful and expressive. Phil could feel the pain filling the former vampire. The second thing he noticed was Penn’s attractiveness. He had smooth skin, high cheekbones and a mouth that Phil wanted to kiss. He put his hands in his pockets.

“Penn,” Angel said. “This is a friend. Phil Coulson.”

_Friend would be an exaggeration_ , Phil thought. “Hello, Penn.”

“What’s this about?” Penn asked.

“I think we may have found a way to help you,” Angel answered.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Penn announced. “You’ve had your week.”

“Angel, could you leave us alone for a few minutes?” Phil went to a chair and sat across from Penn.

“Sure.” Angel looked at Penn. “I’ll be right outside.”

When they were alone, Phil said, “You plan on killing yourself when you leave here.”

“Angel told you everything.”

“Yes. He believes you’re now the good person he found two centuries ago.”

Penn got to his feet and went to the bathroom. He returned with a glass of water and drank it down. “He’s wrong.”

Phil studied Penn and relaxed in the chair by crossing one leg over another. The former vampire wore a shirt two sizes too big and sweats. There was no missing the lithe body underneath and Phil chewed on his tongue for a moment to keep his focus. His instinct was beginning to agree with Angel’s assessment.

“I’m in a position to give you a new life, far removed from the one you’ve lived as a vampire.”

“Do you know what the press called me, Coulson? They named me the Pope because I carved crosses in the cheeks of my victims, including my own family.” Penn lowered his eyes and whispered, “My sister, too.”

“You didn’t have a soul. Now you do.”

“What makes you think I won’t do it again?”

“I trust my instincts. You could do some good in the world and I can help you with that.”

Penn set the glass on the dresser, then folded his arms. Phil Coulson wasn’t attractive in the classical sense. He was all business, had comforting eyes and Penn briefly wondered what a smile would look like on the man.

“Nothing will wash the death away. Angel thinks he can save me and maybe you do, too. It’s too late for that.”

“No, it won’t. It seems to me the vampire that did so much killing is dead now. You’re not him and you never will be again. The problem is you can’t forget it and you can’t absolve yourself.”

“Why are you here?”

“Angel has found a way for you to live with yourself, although you won’t be the person you know.”

“Why don’t you say what you really mean?”

“I’m told the memories of your life as Penn will be replaced. Essentially, Penn will no longer exist.”

“You’re telling me that the last 200 years will disappear, just like that.”

“Yes.” Phil stood and went to him. “You want to kill yourself. Fine. This can do that without you dying. You won’t be Penn.”

“SoI can live with myself,” Penn scoffed, he voice ripe with bitterness.

“Penn, I work for an organization whose sole purpose is to protect the world from unique threats. You possess exceptional abilities from your vampire state. Nothing will undo the things you’ve done, but you can make amends without having to be tortured by them. Is that worth living for?”

“I don’t know,” Penn honestly answered. He couldn’t imagine not being anyone else but him. “I need to think about this.”

“I’ll go talk to Angel and get more information. If you need me, I’ll be right outside the door.”

For reasons Penn didn’t understand, he was comforted by that thought.

~*~

As soon as Phil stepped into the hallway, Angel was right there.

“Well, Coulson? What do you think?”

“If he’s willing and if this magic can do all you say it can, then I don’t see a problem. Fury will go with my recommendations.”

“Maybe if I talk to Penn,” Angel offered.

“I’ve given him a lot to think about, Angel. Give him some breathing room.”

Wesley approached the two with a file. “I believe I have found the perfect identity for Penn.”

Phil took it and flipped it open. He scanned the papers as Wesley talked.

“He died less than six months ago. His history would be more than adequate, I believe.”

“Maybe,” Phil murmured. “It’s not a pleasant life, but insures Penn wouldn’t likely further investigate it. What about this brother?”

“He hasn’t been seen for three years,” Wesley answered. “Your people could easily discover his whereabouts and manage it as you see fit.”

“And this magic,” Phil said. “You can interchange Penn’s memories with that of the deceased?”

“These are straightforward spells.” Wesley rubbed his chin. “There may be some initial confusion, but in all likelihood it should iron out enough to make sense. I can’t guarantee that some residual of Penn won’t remain.”

“Personality, you mean?” Angel asked.

Wesley nodded. “I believe so. These are very old Gypsy spells. He may still experience resentment of his father if not outright hatred.”

“He could attribute it to the deceased’s father. There was a history of abuse.” Phil folded the file. “If Penn is agreeable and if this works, I can use SHIELD resources to bring the deceased back to life, so to speak, through Penn.”

“Coulson, you sure you want to do this?” Angel couldn’t hide his anxiousness. He wanted Penn to have a new life. He owed him that much.

“I’m willing to go the extra mile if Penn is as well.”

Phil went back into the room and found Penn lying on the bed. His shirt was slightly up enough to show the firm abdomen. Resisting the urge to strip off the oversized shirt, Phil instead handed Penn the file.

“If you agree, this will be your new identity. You will become him in most every way that matters. The rest, SHIELD will handle.”

Penn flipped through the papers and shook his head. “Wow, I wouldn’t have come up with something like this.”

“It fits with your abilities and hopefully you won’t feel a need to go back to the deceased’s stomping grounds. Most of the people involved are out of the picture from what I can tell. The deceased was rescuing a kidnapping victim when he was killed.” Phil sat on the bed next to Penn. “If this fails, I won’t stand in your way.”

“What’s your story, Coulson? Why are you doing this? Don’t give me that bullshit about instincts.”

“Angel wants to right the wrong he committed when he turned you. I think you’d do anything to atone for the things you’ve done. You’re worth saving, Penn. If I didn’t believe that, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Penn had never heard anyone tell him he was worth anything in his entire long life. Decision made, he closed the file and set it in his lap. “Okay, I’ll do it. If it doesn’t work, I want a gun.”

“I’ll tell Angel.”

“Coulson, there was only one thing I loved when I was growing up in England that my father ever approved of.”

“What’s that?”

“Archery. I wanted to be Robin Hood.”

That was the first time Penn saw Phil Coulson smile and he wasn’t afraid anymore.

~*~

The spells took a horrendous four days. Angel, Wesley, Cordelia and Fred were the only ones in the room while Phil and Gunn remained in the hallway. With every scream that erupted from Penn, Phil was nearly on his feet. Gunn’s firm eyes kept him in place reminding that even the slightest interruption could disrupt all the work it was taking to remove Penn and putting in place new memories to remake the former vampire.

Phil realized at how much lying he would be doing to this new individual that was going to come out of it. There was an immediate guilt. He had become adept at lying over the years. He had come to like Penn, but in his place would be someone altogether different. Would Phil still feel the attraction, the need to care and guide him?

He would, Phil mentally promised himself. No matter what sort of person came out of it, Phil would be responsible for Penn… _Clint Barton_ , Phil mentally corrected. The person known as Penn would no longer exist.

When Angel and his friends emerged from the room, the exhaustion showed. It had been agreed when the spells were complete, they would make themselves scarce until Phil left with the now Clint Barton.

Phil moved into the room with trepidation. The former vampire was sleeping from the fatigue that had overtaken him in the process. He looked almost childlike in some respects and Phil resisted the urge to cup his cheek. He wanted to crawl into bed and hold him close. Instead, Phil took the chair and waited patiently for Clint Barton to wake.

~*~

How his entire body and head could be so sore, Clint didn’t know. His eyes came open and the brightness hurt. Closing them, he took a deep breath before trying again. The room was unrecognizable. He looked to his left and saw the man in the suit sitting in the chair with his legs crossed as if it were a business meeting he was waiting for.

“What happened?”

“You were mugged after a night of drinking,” the man furnished. “Whoever it was took everything. You couldn’t even get carded for a pack of smokes.”

“Doesn’t sound much like me.” Clint wanted to sit up, but he was sure his head wouldn’t agree.

“Maybe not. I found you and brought you here. It’s a privately owned hotel.”

“Yours?”

“A friend’s.”

“How long have I been here?” Clint asked.

“A day.”

“And you didn’t take me to the hospital.”

“It wasn’t serious enough to require medical care.”

“Got a name so I know who to thank?”

It was a small smile and Clint liked it.

“Phil Coulson.”

“Clint Barton.”

Clint could have sworn there was relief in those eyes.

“I know. I’ve been following your career for some time, Mr. Barton.”

“Okay, now you’re just being creepy.” Clint chanced scooting up in the bed. “Want to explain that?”

“I work for the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.”

“Thanks for narrowing it down.”

Phil grinned a little. “Think of it as a shield. We protect against unusual threats and support those who need our protection. Your unique skills would be invaluable and we hope you might see your way clear in working for us.”

“I’m just a guy with a bow, Coulson.”

“We believe you’re more than that, Mr. Barton. Of course, we will provide any other necessary training needed for you to fulfill your missions.”

“Missions?”

“Yes, we think you could do a lot of good. It’s not clean work, Mr. Barton, but it’s necessary in the world we live in.”

“I gotta admit, I’m curious.”

“Give me a week and if you don’t think SHIELD is the right place, you can be on your way.”

“You know, the last thing I remember is being hired to rescue some debutante in Mississippi.”

“You were last seen in New Orleans. Our Intel suggested the kidnappers came after you when yo freed the girl. She is fine, by the way.” Phil rose. “Oh, and you’re not in New Orleans.”

“Great,” Clint bit out. “Where the hell am I?”

That was when Phil did smile for real. “Los Angeles.”

“Maybe I should get checked out.”

“We can take care of that, Mr. Barton. In fact, you’ll find SHIELD will handle most everything. We’re efficient like that.”

“Basically,” Clint said swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’ve got no money, no ID, and no way to get where I need to go. You’re the only ride there is.”

“I think that about sums it up.”

“Well, give me a tour with all the bells and whistles.”

“A wise decision, Mr. Barton. I’ve taken the liberty of getting you a change of clothes. Once you clean up, if you’re feeling up to it, we’ll be ready to go. I have a private jet waiting.”

“Just Clint or Barton. I won’t answer to mister.”

Phil nodded. “Agent Phil Coulson. Coulson is acceptable.”

Clint got to his feet and despite the soreness, he didn’t get the dizziness he expected. He glanced at Phil and their eyes met. There was something about him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe it was the attraction. Clint liked the gentle assuredness in his eyes, the small heartfelt smiles and the confident steady voice. He headed for the bathroom before making a fool of himself.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a simple enough thing reviving the once dead Clint Barton. After a more thorough investigation, Phil knew everything there was to know about the orphaned merc who had the misfortune of dying in the bayous of Louisiana. Phil’s investigation ended when he discovered that the original Clint Barton had been killed and his body was dumped in the wetlands never to be found. It made it easier to fabricate the remaining records to give life to the new Clint Barton.

Once Clint’s status with SHIELD became official, it was decided only three people in the organization would know his true origins, Director Fury, Maria Hill and Phil Coulson. Phil sensed their initial unease when Clint began training, but it took little time for them to get comfortable once they saw his amazing skills.

As he observed Clint, he began to notice the little things that no one else would realize unless they knew Barton’s complete unfiltered history. He preferred single malt whiskey for one. As much as he claimed to enjoy hard rock, Phil noticed how Clint was drawn to classical music such as Chopin and opera. He was a diehard fan of anything Puccini.

What surprised Phil the most was Clint’s need to build his own bows and arrows. The first bow was a true work of art polished to a fine sheen. Clint had explained that he found a local artisan who allowed him the use of his woodshop. It wasn’t feasible for the kind of work he was doing so Clint managed to design a collapsing recurve. With the help of R&D, he got that and a state of the art quiver that had every kind of arrowhead imaginable.

For relaxation, Clint would fall back on the classic bow he had built by hand.

**August 2002**

A year later, it was a disturbing moment in a small bar that had gotten Phil to wondering how much of Clint’s past was really behind him. They had worked late into the evening and after some cajoling from Clint, Phil went along with him to an English style pub in Queens. It was a little out of the way and Phil always enjoyed downtime with Clint.

Phil had walked to the bar to refresh their drinks and when he returned, he saw Clint’s gaze leveled at a patron across the bar in a corner. He didn’t notice anything unusual about the man other than the paleness. When Phil looked back at Clint, he could see the grip tighten on the glass his tense eyes never moving.

“Clint? Is something wrong?”

Clint tore his eyes away and shifted to Phil. “No, everything’s fine.”

When Phil was seated, he glanced at the man and then it hit him. It was the only explanation for Clint’s distraction. That had to have been a vampire. Nothing else made sense.

“Do you know him?” Phil asked.

“No, I don’t think so.”

The conversation shifted back to work and after another hour, they left and Phil retreated to his apartment after Clint headed to his own. Phil had to call Angel.

_“Coulson, this is unexpected.”_

“I hope I’m not disturbing you, Angel.”

_“Is something wrong? How is Penn?”_

“He’s fine. I need to know, Angel. Is there any chance he’ll ever remember his past?”

_“I don’t see how,”_ Angel answered. _“Did something happen?”_

“I’m not sure. There’ve been little things. His preference for certain whiskey’s, love of classical music, and he’s built bows by hand.”

_“His father was a Puritan, but also a wood maker, a carpenter by trade. Wesley said that some traits would stay with him no matter what.”_

“Angel, I think he can detect other vampires.” The pause on the phone was enough for Phil to feel his breath hitch.

_“How do you know?”_

“We were at a bar tonight. I think he saw one and for a second it looked like he was ready to tear into him.”

_“Did the vampire notice?”_

“I’m not sure.”

_“We can always detect each other. When I first found him, I didn’t feel anything that would suggest he was ever a vampire. Erasing 200 years of vampire instinct might not have been as simple as we thought.”_

“Talk to Wesley, Angel. See if there is a record of a vampire reverting back to a human state. I can’t imagine Clint is the first.”

_“I know it’s an old spell. I’ll let you know what I find.”_

“Thank you, Angel.”

_“Coulson, how is he really doing?”_

Phil smiled a little. It was good to know Angel cared so much. “He’s one of our best agents. If you saw him, you’d be proud.”

_“That can never happen. It’s good to hear. Thanks.”_

Phil hung up the phone. He wished the knot in the pit of his stomach would go away.

~*~

The next evening Clint went back to the bar. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the figure from the night before. There was something about him, but Clint couldn’t fathom the unease that vibrated through him. He sat against the wall sipping the single malt whiskey and kept his gaze on him.

The man had black hair with brown highlighted curls that fell to the side of his face. He was pale and vibrant looking. Clint watched him stroll with purpose to the bar, order a drink and smile at the young woman who returned it. They seemed to have an enjoyable conversation, but all Clint saw was the predatory smile on his lips.

Clint continued to nurse his drink and after an hour, he watched the man and woman leave together. He left and followed them down the dark empty street keeping a careful distance. Clint halted and took cover in the darkness when they stopped at an alley. He couldn’t make out what was being said.

Suddenly she screamed and ran down the alley with the man following. Clint sprinted from his hiding place in hopes of not losing them. When he got to the alley, she was struggling with the man and without thinking, Clint ran and plowed into him with all three hitting the hard cement.

The man turned and Clint froze when he saw his face. He had morphed into a monster with fangs, yellow eyes, and a demon-like face he’d only seen in horror movies. The creature came at him and Clint took a hard swing. The punch didn’t fazed him.

Clint was grabbed and thrown several feet into boxes and crates. He crashed into them and was temporarily dazed. As he tried to get to his feet, his hand grabbed onto a piece of jagged wood and as soon as the monster was on him, Clint stabbed it into his heart.

An explosion of dust stupefied Clint. The wood was still in his hand and he stood there unsure of what just happened and why. Clint let the weapon drop from his hand and it took a moment for him to get his bearings to walk away.

~*~

It would be a two-person mission. Phil briefed both Clint and Natasha on their next target, an AIM facility intent on exploiting genetic manipulation. They would have to air drop under the cover of darkness to burn the base after getting what research they could find. As Phil explained the details, he noted Clint’s distraction.

When the briefing was finished, Natasha was leaving and stopped to see Clint unmoving from his seat.

“Clint?” Natasha asked.

“I’ll catch up.”

After she left, Phil asked, “Something bothering you about the mission?”

“No.” Clint tapped the pen on the table as if deep thought. He set it down and looked at Phil. “I went back to that bar last night?”

“Oh?” Phil was relieved he could hide the small alarm he felt in his chest.

“He was there.”

“That’s why you went back.”

Clint hid his eyes. “He picked up a girl and I followed him. Not sure why. I just had a bad feeling, Coulson.”

“What happened?”

When Clint leveled his gaze at him, Phil took a seat to hide his growing unease. There wasn’t good news in those intense eyes.

“He attacked her and I took off after him. She got away, but then he turned on me.” Clint leaned forward, feeling anxious as he remembered. “He was a fucking monster. I’m not talking about the psychopathic kind.”

Phil’s worst fear was starting to unfold inside of him. He clenched his fist in his lap. “What do you mean?”

“Fucking yellow eyes, fangs and his face…” Clint rubbed his eyes. “Phil, I think he was a vampire of some kind. When I stabbed him…”

“You stabbed him?”

“Yeah, I got hold of a broken piece of wood and stabbed him in the heart. He fucking blew up in a cloud of dust! There was nothing left of him!” Clint shook his head still in disbelief. “I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it for myself.”

Clint waited for some kind of response from Phil, but the longer he stayed quiet the more it occurred to him that his handler wasn’t the least surprised.  

“Phil, is this your way of telling me vampires are real?”

“I guess so,” Phil admitted. He put on his business face and shifted in the chair. “SHIELD’s been aware of them and other demons for some time now.”

“So what’s SHIELD doing about it? These things are more dangerous than the weapons dealing and spy business we’ve been doing.”

“We’re not strong enough. Many vampires are connected to more powerful sources and SHIELD could never win if we went head to head.”

“So, they just run wild and kill people?”

“Not entirely. There are a few groups scattered around the country who fight them and are able to keep the vampire population from exploding. We provide a small amount of support in order to stay off the radar until we’re better equipped. SHIELD is even assisting a private military force at a small college in Southern California to study them and other demons in hopes of beating them in the future.”

“Wow.” Clint leaned back. Flabbergasted was an understatement. “Are you even supposed to be telling me this?”

“You would’ve found out eventually when you’re reviewed for your next clearance level.”

“You don’t have an operative trained for this kind of work.”

“No. Like I said, SHIELD wants to remain off their radar. We want them to think we’re more concerned with worldly matters.”

“Maybe I ought to be the first then. Least I can be ready when SHIELD’s up to taking them on.”

“No.” Phil wasn’t about to let Clint near any vampires if he could help it. “You are to keep your distance.”

“Even if they’re stalking for prey?”

“Agent Barton,” Phil said leaning towards Clint to get the message across. “You are not to engage vampires or demons. That is an order.”

Clint shot out of his chair unable to contain his anger. “Yes, sir!”

Phil didn’t care how much ire he got from Clint. He’d do everything in his power to keep him as far from vampires as he could. He remained stoic as Clint left slamming the door behind him.

~*~

The night drop over the Eastern Europe forest had Clint and Natasha readying for their mission while Phil sat and quietly observed. He needed his mind on the mission at hand, but knowing how close Clint had gotten to a vampire put him on edge. His jaw remained clenched and his demeanor stiff. Both Natasha and Clint had noticed, but said nothing.

Phil looked up as Clint walked over making a final adjustment to his parachute. He stood and checked the back to make sure it was secure.

“Listen,” Clint said in a low voice. “I’ve got no problem following your orders. I won’t go hunting for them, but if I see one going after somebody, don’t expect me to sit still for it.”

“Fair enough.” Phil faced Clint.

Clint gave Phil a cheeky grin. “If I vamp out, you’ve got my permission to stake me.”

It was a joke that made Phil sick to his stomach. He said nothing and watched Clint take his place next to Natasha as the ramp came down. They dived out the back and Phil was too anxious to sit. For the first time, he considered telling Clint the truth. It took less than ten seconds to talk himself out of it. 


	4. Chapter 4

**January 2004**

Horror-filled images of the dead with bloody crosses incised into pale faces drained of life. Clint screamed and when he shot up in bed, his eyes opened and he looked around. _Safe house, Bogota, mission_ , he remembered. He saw Natasha raising up from the sofa with a concerned look.

“Sorry,” Clint breathed. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I wasn’t sleeping.”

Clint scooted to the edge of the bed and saw the window. It was nearly dawn. He got up, went to the bathroom and washed his face with some cool water. The nightmare still haunted him and he needed it out of his system.

He felt Natasha’s presence in the doorway.

“I’m okay, Nat.”

“Was it worse than the others?”

After drying his face, Clint turned. “Yeah, it was bloodier. I could almost taste it. How’s that possible?”

“Dreams have a habit of messing with our heads, Clint.”

“It felt so fucking real, I could feel the skin grow cold under my hands.”

Natasha crossed the room and opened the mini-fridge. She opened a bottle of orange juice and held it out. Clint came over and took it.

“Maybe you should tell Coulson or talk to someone. I can’t help you with this.”

The taste seemed to help with the coppery taste filling his mouth.

Clint loved his handler. The man had been there through nearly every mission, wound and near death. He had almost lost it when Phil had been severely wounded on an op just over a year ago. He’d held his insides together while Natasha worked feverishly to keep Phil alive. The panic had nearly been his undoing and it hadn’t taken long for the truth to come to light. They’d lived in each other’s back pockets for so long and he hadn’t realized it until then. It had been there that first moment when Clint woke up seeing Phil Coulson sitting so calmly in a chair at a hotel in Los Angeles.

“Do you think Coulson – Phil – tells us everything?”

“Come on, Clint. He’s **the spy**. Of course he doesn’t.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean…” Clint shook his head and finished off the orange juice.

“Tell me.”

Clint took a seat on the corner of the bed.

“Do you believe in vampires, Nat?”

“Yes.”

Clint blinked in surprise. He expected any other reaction but that one.

“Really?”

Natasha moved next to him.

“Elizabeth Bathory, a Romanian countess who tortured and fed off the peasants in the 16th century.”

“She was real?”

“Her vampire-like exploits were considered apocryphal. In the Red Room, one of our instructors was a woman who employed certain similar techniques. From time to time, if one of us were a little slower than the rest, that’s who was taken by her and the girl never returned.”

“Nat, why would you think…?”

“Clint, I went back to Russia to see if the Red Room still existed before coming to SHIELD. I found her and she hadn’t aged a day since the first time I saw her as a little girl. Everything I know about her fits with the vampire lore. I believed it then and I believe you now.”

“I’ve seen them,” Clint said. The fear was beginning to leave as he spoke. “Four, to be exact. I killed two of them. One that Coulson knows about.”

“And not the other?”

“He told me to keep my distance. SHIELD isn’t strong enough to take them on, but I can’t walk away, Tasha. They’re monsters.”

“How could you tell?”

“I just knew. Maybe it’s instinct or something.”

“You think Coulson is keeping something from you.”

“Phil doesn’t rattle easy, but when I told him about the first vampire he was scared shitless. He thought he hid it well enough. He knows something.”

“You’re Hawkeye for a reason, Clint. You see things no one else can.” Natasha sighed and turned her head. “What do you want to do?”

“This wasn’t just SHIELD policy, Tasha. There’s more to it and Phil knows more than he’s saying.”

“Spying on Phil Coulson.” She shook her head. “I don’t see how it’s possible.”

Clint shifted and turned towards Natasha. He took hold of her hand. “There’s a connection between my nightmares and these vampires, Tasha. Please help me find it.”

“If Coulson knows anything, he’d tell you. He cares about you, Clint.”

“We can’t go to him with this.”

“Fine,” Natasha agreed. “On the condition you let me handle it. You’re a lousy spy.”

Squeezing her hand, Clint grinned a little. “Compared to you. Thanks.”

~*~

 

**May 2004**

Carrying a briefcase through Manhattan, Phil looked like any other businessman. It had been a month since Clint’s confrontation with the vampire. These days Clint was all he thought about.

“Mr. Coulson.”

Phil turned and was surprised to see Wesley coming his way. “Mr. Pryce.”

“A colleague asked for my assistance in translating some ancient codex. Something about Judas. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a fake.”

A quick onceover of Wesley told Phil the man was lying. He had tired haunted eyes and hadn’t shaved in a few days. His clothing looked as worn as the rest of him. This was but a shadow of the Englishman he’d met in Los Angeles.

“For someone who’s an expert on ancient writings, I can imagine your disappointment.”

“Would you care to join me for a cup of tea?”

“If you don’t mind me having coffee,” Phil answered with a small smile. “I’m not quite British enough for the tea.”

They found a small café not far and after they were settled, Phil took a drink of his coffee.

“We didn’t meet by happenstance,” Phil stated. “You sought me out.”

“I’m not much of a spy, Mr. Coulson.”

“Phil, please.”

“If you will call me by my given name.” Wesley sipped the hot liquid. “Angel informed me of your concerns and a face-to-face conversation seemed prudent. My apologies for not getting back to you sooner.”

“So how is Wolfram & Hart?”

“You keep up, I see.”

“It’s my job. I have to tell you, Wesley, when Director Fury heard Angel and his team had taken over the running of hell’s law firm he nearly signed the kill order on Angel.”

“Surely, you know it would be a pointless endeavor, Phil.”

“I reasoned to the director it may work to our benefit in the long run, but keep in mind that while you may be using the firm’s resources to accomplish some good in the world, the senior partners may be using you for their own benefit.”

When Wesley smiled, Phil saw the uncertainty in his eyes. He considered pressing for what was troubling him, but Phil well understood the need to keep secrets.

“How many spies have you in Wolfram & Hart?”

Phil responded with a small grin of his own. “Is Lorne still auditioning the staff?”

“You know more about us than we do of SHIELD,” Wesley observed.

“Officially, I’m allowed to tell you that as long as Wolfram & Hart, demons, vampires and whatnot stay out of our way, we’ll stay out of yours.”

“And unofficially?”

“We’re watching you.”

Wesley took a deep breath and let it out as he fingered the tea cup. “I came here to inform you of my research and instead I feel like we’re friendly enemies, Phil.”

“We’re not enemies, Wesley. I believe you are hoping to do some good. I just hope you’re not in over your heads.”

“We’re managing.” Wesley’s eyes dropped to the tea which was growing cooler. “I think I’d like to change the subject now.”

Phil nodded. “What did you find out?”

“Even with Wolfram & Hart’s extensive resources, it took considerable time and effort. Its vagueness complicated the search. We did uncover one vampire who had used some unknown magic to revert himself back to human. It was nearly 150 years ago in Salzburg.”

“If it was good news you would have called me.”

“He had been a vampire for almost 300 years before. The documentation indicates there was a distinct change in his five years as a human. He began to hunt other vampires. In the beginning he killed them. As his obsession grew, he took on vampire-like habits. Sleeping during daylight hours, walking the streets, stalking prey and eventually he began killing those vampires he discovered. He was still human, but the observers noted he began desiring a return to his vampire state. Once it happened, he slowly began to go mad with regret, I believe. Eventually, he walked into the sunlight and killed himself.”

“Jesus,” Phil whispered. “Could it happen to Clint?”

“Phil, there are substantial differences between the two. Clint Barton has no memory of his life as a vampire.”

“Some traits and habits of his previous life still remain. He killed a vampire a month ago. Clint can sense them.”

“Are you certain of this?”

“Pretty certain.”

“Have you considered telling him?”

“For a few seconds, but I can’t. I have no idea how he’d react to not just having been a vampire, but also the countless murders he committed as a result. That’s not to mention his own family. What you’ve told me makes it even more imperative Clint never learns the truth.”

“If he was turned once again, it’s possible all the memories would return,” Wesley told him.

“I’m doing everything I can to keep him off of it. He wants to hunt them down, Wesley. He’s under orders not to.”

“He’s been living the life as Clint Barton for some time now, Phil. Perhaps his work with you and SHIELD is enough.”

“My worst fear is him becoming the thing he hates. I think it would drive him even more insane than he was as Penn.”

Wesley leaned forward. “Phil, this is more than just concern for a subordinate. You’re in love with him.”

Phil started to reach for his coffee. It was a casual distracting tactic that he often used to give himself an extra few seconds of thinking time, but he stopped.

“Yes, for a while now. At first it was a purely physical attraction when I met Penn. As Clint Barton, he’s amazing. I do love him, Wesley. I would do anything to protect him from this.”

Pain returned to Wesley’s eyes and disappeared just as quickly.

“Will he follow your orders?”

“He has from day one. He’ll question them, but he’s never outright disobeyed.”

“I wish I had more assurances for you, Phil. You’ve done a remarkable job dealing with the entire situation.”

“I’m failing miserably at this.”

Wesley grinned a little and raised his cup. “You would have made a fine watcher.”

It was Phil’s turn to smile. “I turned the Watcher’s Council down.”

Before Phil could reach out to Wesley, the former watcher made his excuses, wished him luck and left. Phil finished his coffee, dropped a bill on the table and left the café.

~*~

A week later, Clint, Natasha and Phil were preparing for a mission at a safe house in Northern Italy. Phil had strapped on a Kevlar over his shirt and tie while Clint put on his tac vest. It was a straight forward mission involving the rescue of a gifted being held by terrorists.

Phil glanced over when he saw Clint setting an odd looking knife on the cot. He picked it up and slid it from its sheath. The entire weapon was solid wood. Phil gave him a questioning look.

“I know,” Clint sighed. “I’m not out looking for them, but you taught me the benefit of being prepared for anything.”

“Did you actually make this?” Phil was amazed by the exquisite workmanship and the deadly edge to the wooden blade.

“Yeah,” Clint said with a hint of pride in his voice. “Took eight tries to get something that wouldn’t snap.” He shrugged his shoulders as he kept talking and checking over his arrows. “Never used to care about woodworking. I like working with my hands.”

Clint smirked a little at Phil. “Wait’ll Christmas. You and Nat are in for a surprise.”

Phil forced a smile and handed the knife back to Clint.

“I can’t wait.”


	5. Chapter 5

The text came just before dinner. After checking the address he’d been sent, Clint grabbed his helmet and was headed out of the city in short order. He sped through Newark and parked the motorcycle near a hotel room not far from the airport. After a gentle knock on the door, it opened and he stepped inside as Natasha closed it.

“You’ve been gone for a week without a word.” Clint set his helmet on the dresser.

Natasha sat on the bed and sorted through the folder. “The less you knew what I was doing, the better.”

Clint pulled a chair closer and seated himself. “So, what’d you find?”

She slid a photograph over and Clint lifted it. Phil and another man sat across from one another in what appeared to be a café.

“When was this taken?”

“About a month ago. After our talk, I kept an eye out. Do you recognize him?”

“Should I?” Clint handed the picture back.

“Records indicate he was a researcher in at Oxford.”

“Whenever you say ‘records indicate’ that means you don’t believe it.”

“There’s no record of him ever being at Oxford, Clint. It was a cover for whatever his real work was.”

“Think he worked for another faceless organization that liked initials?”

“Nope.” Natasha shifted a few more photographs around on the bed. “He was with a firm in Los Angeles for a time, Angel Investigations.”

“Why would Coulson have need of a PI?” Clint turned his head to see what Natasha was looking for.

“He wasn’t a private investigator when he met with Coulson.” She picked up four photos. “He and four others somehow got their hands on what used to be one of the most prestigious and mysterious law firms in L.A. Not one of them was lawyers, unless you count this guy.”

Clint took the picture and shook his head. “Who is this?”

“Charles Gunn. He went from a gang member to a well-educated attorney according to his records.”

“This is sounding a bit weird, Nat, but you haven’t told me anything.”

“I haven’t finished,” Natasha replied with an arched eyebrow. She handed off a photo of an attractive woman with short dark hair. “Another member of Angel Investigations only she didn’t make it to the law firm. Cordelia Chase. For unknown medical reasons, she succumbed to some sort of vegetative state. The law firm had her transferred to a private hospital where she later died.”

“Medical records?”

“None. I only know this because I found her father and he was quite angry over her mysterious circumstances.” She gave Clint another photo of a smiling young woman with long hair. “Winifred Burkle, nicknamed Fred. She disappeared from a campus library and suddenly reappeared five years later. She was reported missing by her parents in Texas, but her return was not. She’s been the most difficult to track. She sporadically visits her parents, but lies to them consistently about her whereabouts. Every follow-up has come up empty.”

“Come on, Tasha. You can find anyone.”

“SHIELD couldn’t find her, Clint.”

Rather than add anymore, Natasha handed over the last photo. “He’s known as Angel. No last name that I can find. No history. He’s an empty folder.”

Clint studied the grainy picture. “Where was this taken?”

“It’s from a police video surveillance and the only photo I could find. Recognize him?”

“I’m not sure,” Clint said with a heavy sigh. It was more of a feeling, but nothing he could put his finger on. “What do you know about him?”

“I did track down one person who knew him, but not well. She’s a former police officer who did some work with Angel Investigations for a time. I told her he had worked on a case involving my supposed sister.” Natasha grinned a little. “I needed some information. She was vague about her involvement with him. She knows more than what she’s saying, but she’s too smart for me to go further.”

Clint tossed the photo with the others. “So, we’ve got nothing?”

“Clint, I’m not sure what we’re getting into here, but before you consider going further there’s more you have to know.”

“Shit, are you warning me off?”

“The law firm was called Wolfram & Hart.”

“I’ve heard of them. They’ve got offices everywhere.”

“One of which was in Los Angeles up until a few weeks ago. The entire building is gone, Clint. All that’s left is an empty parking lot.”

“How’s that possible?”

“I couldn’t begin to even guess. Every employee and associate summarily vanished. Records are practically nonexistent.” Seeing Clint scratch his head, Natasha continued. “There is more.”

“Yeah, there’d have to be.”

“Wesley Wyndham-Price and Charles Gunn are dead as of three weeks ago.”

“What happened to them?”

“Their bodies were found in separate alleys. Gunn appeared to have been in a fight. He had significant wounds over his body. Pryce, was a gut wound. He bled out, but it didn’t happen where they found him. Other minor injuries indicated a fight as well.”

Clint sat soaking in the information debating on his next move as Natasha spoke while she gathered the photos.

“There is an old Romanian story about an ancient trio of demons. They were considered minor league players in their world..”

He had no idea what Natasha was talking about.

“No one knows much about them except their names.” She leaned forward. “Wolf, Ram and Hart.”

Clint shook his head dismissively. “Jesus, Nat. A rock group could have come up with that name.”

“Clint, they had a dozen offices around the world before the LA office disappeared. Their primary fields were international and banking law. They had powerful and wealthy clients.”

“You really believe it.”

“I’ve learned never to discount anything, especially after meeting Elizabeth Bathory.”

“Okay, so maybe you’re right. Demons.” Clint rubbed his face. “I guess it’s not a stretch after the whole vampire thing. You never said what happened to Angel. Where is he?”

Natasha reached for the folder and opened it. “I did get an address of a location he’s been known to frequent, but the building appears to be abandoned. If anyone did live there, they’re long gone.”

Clint took the photo and his heartbeat seemed to freeze in his chest. For a moment he could barely breathe.

“Clint?”

He slowly stood. “This is a mistake. It’s gotta be.” Clint closed his eyes, took a breath and looked again. “Jesus Christ.”

Natasha went to him. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“Tasha, I woke up in this hotel when Coulson recruited me.” He took a moment to get a handle on his racing heart before starting again. “The last thing I remember before waking up was chasing down kidnappers in Gulfport.”

“Mississippi,” Natasha stated.

“Phil said I was spotted in New Orleans and then I somehow wound up in Los Angeles where he found me after a mugging. It was wrote off as a severe concussion with short term memory loss. I never had a reason to question it.”

Natasha took the photo of the hotel and studied it. “We can take what we have to Coulson.”

“No.” Clint shook his head. “He’ll say Pryce was a friend who met a bad end. Come up with bullshit reasoning for the rest.”

“There’s nothing left for us to investigate, Clint.”

The horrors of the nightmares flashed in Clint’s head. He turned to the laptop on the table.

“We left on a SHIELD jet at a private airstrip in L.A., Nat. You think you can find out when it arrived there?”

She moved to the laptop and sat in the chair. Clint supplied the date when he woke in the hotel. It only took a few minutes to hack into SHIELD find the answer to the question.

“Six days prior to your waking.”

Clint stilled and intently gazed at the monitor before moving. Everything was beginning to slide into place and he stepped back. He needed more before he could be sure.

“I have to go.”

Natasha shot to her feet. “Clint!”

He grabbed the helmet and started for the door. “Just give me a few days. I have something I have to do. I’ll explain later.”

“You disappear on me and I’ll fucking hunt you down.”

“I won’t,” Clint promised. “I love you, too.”

Clint got on the motorcycle after leaving Natasha and drove to the Newark City Library. It had been closed for a few hours already and the moon hung low. He parked the bike in an alley a few blocks away and started for the library.

It was easy to bypass the light security and make his way to a cubicle in the corner. Clint turned on the computer. Natasha would have helped, but this was one part of his investigation he had to do alone. No one could know what he was thinking and he hoped he was wrong in his conclusions.

With the monitor the only illumination, Clint found the LA times archives. Skimming the front pages, he began with the day he woke at the Hyperion Hotel and moved on to the previous days. Clint lost track of time as he search in the past took him to the earlier months.

The January 2000 front page headline glared back at him. Clint got to his feet, hurried to the reception desk and came back with a pen and paper. He wrote and then moved to the next. For three hours, he scoured headlines as far back as he could find. By the time he finished, he had almost two dozen names with dates of their deaths.

He next went in search of death certificates and obituaries. When the first photo of the dead looked back at him, Clint was nearly out of his seat. With his heart pounding and shaky hands, he went through the list finding one photo after another. Their images flashing before him with bloody crosses etched into their faces.

When Clint couldn’t take it anymore, he jerked to his feet and jumped away from the computer. He rushed to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet in time to vomit. He cried as he threw up with every bloody death before him as if he could feel the life slipping from his victims.

By the time he finished, collapsed on the cold tile and his back against the wall, Clint now knew the truth even with so many questions unanswered. He couldn’t even form the thought in his mind.

Clint wiped his eyes and pushed to his feet. He went back to the computer, deleted the browser history and put everything back in its place before leaving. After putting on the helmet, Clint drove the motorcycle to the airport and put it in long term parking. He bought a ticket to Waterloo, Iowa and inside of an hour he was on a plane.


	6. Chapter 6

It was midmorning when the plane landed. Exhausted, Clint cleaned up in the public bathroom before getting a car rental for the drive to Waverly.

His memories of where the small family farm was located were still fresh. When he pulled onto the dirt drive, the old house still stood as he remembered. He eyed the porch swing on the front and then gazed along the front where fresh flowers had been recently watered.

Clint got out of the car just as a familiar figure approached. He almost said his name, but the man spoke first.

“Can I help you?”

It was jarring to say the least. The person he’d known as his brother was looking at him as if he were a stranger. Clint needed a moment to get the hurt emotions under control.

“I was out this way and…” Clint forced a smile. “Sorry, I used to live around here when I was a kid and I wanted to check some of the old stomping grounds.”

“It must’ve been a while. I don’t recognize you.”

“Yeah, it was.” Nervous, Clint stepped forward and opted for an old alias. “Aaron Cross.”

“Barney Barton.”

They shook hands and Clint shoved his fists in his pockets afterwards.

“The name’s not familiar,” Barney told him. “Did you know my brother?”

“Um, yeah, school.” It was the best lie he could come up with. “I came out here a couple of times with him.”

A flash of pain crossed Barney’s face. “You know he died, didn’t you?”

Hearing the words was startling. Clint couldn’t recover from the shock. “No. I didn’t know what happened to him after…”

“Shit,” Barney muttered. He scratched his head. “You know about that whole mess when our parents were killed.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”

“No, it’s all right.” Barney let out a shaky sigh. “It’s something you never get over. Why don’t you come in for some coffee?”

“I shouldn’t. I wasn’t looking to dredge up bad memories.”

“I wish you would, Aaron. I never knew any of his friends.”

Thing was, Clint wanted it no matter how much of a bad idea it was. He followed Barney into the house.

Once inside, he was assailed with memories, both good and bad. He remembered the games played in the upstairs attic, his father’s rare sober moments when they shared meals at the old table and even the bad ones when the grips of PTSD from Vietnam overtook putting fear into the entire family. He even remembered the time when his father had broken his arm and had escaped into alcohol to assuage the guilt. Two months later, both parents were dead and they’d been shuttled off to a foster home.

“Here.”

Clint was jerked back to the present with Barney holding a cup of coffee in front of him. He took it.

“Thanks.”

He followed Barney to a newer kitchen table and they sat across from one another.  

“So,” Barney began. “How well did you know my brother?”

Toying with the handle on the mug, Clint struggled with what to tell him.

“School, mostly. I didn’t have much in the way of friends from moving and all. We liked the same things.”

“Superhero cartoons and cop shows,” Barney said with a bit of a grin.

“Yeah. I remember how fearless he was and wanting to save the girl.”

“That’s Clint alright.”

“How’d you wind up back here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s kinda crazy.” Barney took a drink of the coffee. “They put us in this fucking awful foster home and when I found out about Carson’s coming through town, I stole some money and got me and Clint out of there. They took us in. I guess they had a history of adopting strays. They found out Clint was a natural in the ring. He stole the show.”

Clint smiled a little. Memories of his archery and acrobatic feats and an applauding audience on their feet came back to him.

“I stayed a roustabout, learned a few skills that wasn’t legal along the way. We parted badly a few years later.” His eyes filled with guilt, Barney shook his head. “I called him foolish and stupid. I beat the hell out of the kid and left. After that, I drifted. Pulled some jobs, got hooked on drugs and refused to look back at the bad history rather than deal with it. Wasn’t long before it all caught up and I was sent up for a nickel on armed robbery to the state pen.”

Barney got to his feet and poured another cup of coffee.

“About three years in, this lawyer shows up and tells me the house has been sitting empty since our parents were killed. It wasn’t owned by a bank and no one had claimed it. Clint had done him a favor a few months before he died and the suit thought he’d look for some family. He found out about the house and tracked me down. That’s when I found out…” Barney wiped his moist eyes and continued. “Anyway, he tells me that I can sell the place. Get a decent penny out of it.”

“You didn’t.”

After a rough chuckle, Barney said, “The bastard in me would’ve taken the money and run, but after him telling me my little brother was gone, I couldn’t do it. There was always more bad than good in this place and I figured I owed to Clint to make something of it. I got an early out and had barely a hundred bucks when I got here. Found a job in town at the lumber yard. Didn’t have a fucking clue what I was doing half the time. Got a damn gash on my arm the length of a ruler.”

He showed Clint the scar.

“A doctor fixed me up at the ER and a dark-haired nurse with the prettiest smile you ever saw bandaged me up. She asked me how to fix a leaky faucet. We got married six months later after her convincing me I was a good man.”

Clint’s smile was genuine. “That’s great.”

Barney returned it. “Her name’s Addie. The baby’ll be here in a few months.”

“You’re going to be a father.” Clint’s heart swelled with happiness for Barney. “Shit, that’s great, Barney.”

“It is. Scared as hell I’ll be a shit father like the old man.”

“Don’t say that. You’ll be an amazing father.”

Barney had a tender look that made Clint feel like he had a brother again.

“When you say it like that, I think I might do okay.”

“You will.”

They both gazed at each other for a moment and it was Barney who finally spoke.

“You should stay for dinner. Addie’s shift will be ending soon. You can meet her.”

Clint shook his head and got to his feet. “I really can’t. I have to get back.”

“Are you sure? It’s meatloaf, but still the best home-cooked stuff you’ll ever have.”

“Yeah, I am.” Clint shifted back and forth unsure of what to do, then stepped forward and shook Barney’s hand. “Thanks for talking to me. I appreciate it, a lot.”

“Hold on, Aaron.” Barney grabbed the notepad on the counter. He scribbled on it and handed it to Clint. “If you ever get back this way, you should call. We can get together or something. You can come after the baby’s here.”

Everything inside Clint told him it was a horrendous idea. Nothing good could come of it, but he found himself nodding.

“I’ll do that. Thanks.”

“Anytime. Drive safe.”

Clint nodded and walked out of the house. He took his time getting to the car and driving to the end of the driveway. Before leaving, he looked over his shoulder and saw Barney on the porch watching him. Clint turned back and pulled onto the blacktop.

A few hours later, Clint was in a small motel after buying a change of clothes and toiletries. He’d already reserved a flight that would land in LA late in the evening.

After a shower and a meal, he got a text from Natasha and Clint assured her he was fine. He’d be back in a few days. With a pillow at his back, Clint leaned against the headboard and fiddled with the phone before making his decision.

_“Coulson.”_

“It’s me.”

_“Clint? Where are you? Natasha would only say it was personal.”_

Hearing the worry in Phil’s voice, the urge to comfort him was strong. Clint wished for his presence.

“I needed to clear my head.”

There was a brief pause.

_“Are you in Iowa?”_ Phil softly asked.

“Yeah. Went to the old place.” Clint closed his eyes hating having to lie. “No one was there.”

_“Talk to me, Clint. What’s going on?”_

“Phil…” His chest tightened so much so that Clint almost let it all out in telling Phil everything. “A couple blocks from my place is this little hole-in-the-wall diner. The seats in the booths are ripped and the menus faded with the old prices inked over.”

_“I’ve seen it.”_

“It’s got the worst fucking coffee in the world. Real sludge.”

_“Sounds like my kind of coffee.”_

Clint knew Phil was smiling on the other end.

“We should go there.”

_“I’d like that. As soon as you get back.”_

“Best time is between four and five in the morning. The food’s good, but that’s when it’s great. Pancakes and bacon fresh off a clean grill. The cook is this insane Russian. He’s never met a conspiracy he didn’t like.”

_“The half that isn’t bullshit is likely true.”_

“Somehow, everything just kinda makes sense when I eat there.”

_“Clint…”_

He heard the seriousness in Phil’s voice, but Clint couldn’t let him finish.

“When I get back, boss. Okay?”

_“When you get back,”_ Phil relented.

Clint hung up the phone and rested his head. He didn’t know what was going to happen or even if he was going back. 


	7. Chapter 7

In the black night, the hotel looked ominous. Clint’s eyes traveled over it as the taxi pulled away. He moved to the front entrance and found it boarded to ward off potential visitors. When he stepped back, Clint did a cursory glance around and went to the side of the building. He headed to the alley and found an open window. With care, he eased it open and crawled inside.

There wasn’t much to see in the darkness and Clint treaded silently down the hallway until he got to a doorway leading to the lobby. To his left was an office and the shelves on the wall caught his attention. Clint walked over and studied the various leather bound books. He ran his fingers over the spines and could almost feel their age. They had to be hundreds of years old, he guessed.

The hair on the back of Clint’s neck stood when he felt the presence behind him. He turned and instincts screamed ‘vampire” as he took in the figure who was identical to the photo Natasha had showed him. Clint’s fingers itched for the wooden knife in the sheath at his back.

He saw the recognition in the man’s eyes.

“You know me,” Clint said keeping his voice low.

Angel wouldn’t have believed Penn was here if he hadn’t heard his voice. He kept silent as the former vampire came out of the office and stood not far from him.

“Were you here when I woke up?” Clint stepped closer. “Did you do something to me? To my fucking head?”

“Just take it easy,” Angel said. He could see the violence simmering just beneath the surface.

“Answer the damn question!”

“Penn?”

Both men looked to see a vampire with bleached hair wearing a black leather trench coat.

Spike grinned and held out his arms.

“I thought you were dead, you bugger!”

“Spike!” Angel warned.

Spike ignored Angel and sauntered forward. “I have to tell you, mate, I don’t do the whole chaos, murder and mayhem anymore like the old days. Well, I do, but without the murder.”

Clint looked back at Angel. “Is that my name? Penn?”

“You don’t remember,” Angel said in a low voice.

“I don’t even know why the hell I thought coming here would solve anything,” Clint muttered. He reached to his back. “You’re just fucking vampires, monsters.”

Clint had the wooden blade out in a flash and he lunged at Angel who got out of the way before it could find his heart. Seeing Spike headed in his direction, Clint planted a foot in the vampire’s chest sending him to his back. He turned back to Angel who was taking a swing at him and he ducked just in time and put the knife in his other hand. He swiped at Angel slicing into his sleeve leaving behind a thin line of blood.

Seeing Spike on his feet coming at him, Clint flung the wooden blade aiming for his heart. In the blink of an eye, Angel had moved and caught the weapon before it could meet its mark.

“You’re fast,” Angel said admiring the workmanship. “But still human.”

“He’s a fucking human,” Spike said. “Was anyone going to let me in on the news?”

Angel ignored Spike and looked at Clint who was breathing furiously.

“You were a vampire and you were staked nearly five years ago. Dead. An associate from Wolfram and Hart revived you to get to me only you got away. I found you outside this hotel, suicidal for all the killing you did.”

Clint tried blinking back the tears, but failed. Hearing the truth was harder than thinking it.

“I wanted to kill myself and you wouldn’t let me. What gave you the fucking right to stop me?”

“Penn…” Angel paused at seeing the murderous look in his eyes. “You gave me the right. It was you who wanted a second life and I had the power to give that to you.”

“And Coulson?”

“He helped.”

Clint snatched the knife out of Angel’s hand, holding it tight enough to whiten his knuckles.

“Since you gave me the fucking lie of my life, you can take it back!” Angel didn’t move and Clint stepped closer. “Do it!”

He yanked his shirt collar open and bared his neck. “Fucking take it back, you bastard!”

“Clint!”

It was Natasha approaching him and Clint couldn’t believe she was here, but then he could. She loved him.

“Nat,” Clint said near crying.

When Natasha reached him, Clint went into her arms. He wanted to sob like a baby, the pain ripped through him.

Angel walked over. “I turned you in a vampire, Penn. In 1786 I made you into a monster. You became one because of me and when I found you here, guilt-ridden and ready to kill yourself, I had to try to save you. Cordy, Wesley and I replaced your memories so that you’d have a shot at some kind of normal life. Coulson helped and brought you to SHIELD. I’m not sorry for it, but I am for what I made you in the first place.”

“Wasn’t you who was doing the murdering,” Clint said pulling back from Natasha.

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Spike rolled his eyes as he ambled towards them. “Guilt is wasted on mewling quims like you!”

Seeing Natasha's raised eyebrow, Spike grinned and winked at her. "The name's Spike, love." He turned back to Angel and Clint.

“Neither of you buggers had a soul! Dru and the three of us bloodied Europe together like it was the Dark Ages!” Spike gave them a dismissive wave and walked off. “Get over yourselves already.”

No one said a word for a moment and Natasha put her arms around Clint.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

When they stepped outside of the hotel, Clint stopped and looked at Natasha.

“Tasha, I…”

“Not now. I can tell by looking that you haven’t slept in a while and I can only guess the last time you ate.”

She led Clint to the parked car and got inside. They arrived at a hotel where Natasha took him to a room.

“Shower first,” Natasha said. “I’ll get you something to eat, then it’s at least six hours of uninterrupted sleep.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she stopped him. “After that, we talk.”

Clint nodded and headed to the bathroom.

Natasha stepped outside of the hotel and called Phil on his cell.

_“Coulson.”_

“I’ve got him.”

_“Where are you?”_

She chewed on her lip before answering. “Seattle. He’ll be fine after a meal and some rest.”

_“You’re not going to tell me what he was doing.”_

“It’s his story to tell, Coulson.”

_“Will he?”_

“If he doesn’t, will you accept it?”

_“Yes. Does he want to come home?”_

“He does,” Natasha promised. “Phil, Clint may have lost his head for a few days, but he’s going to be okay.”

_“That’s one thing I know you won’t lie to me about. I’ll see you both soon?”_

“A few days at the most.”

_“Thank you, Natasha.”_

~*~

Ten hours later, Clint had slept, showered and was sitting on the bed with Natasha sharing bagels and drinking coffee. He was still overwhelmed by the discoveries but felt considerably better and able to talk. He poured out the entire story to Natasha who listened without saying a word.

He took a drink of the coffee and bit into a bagel.

“What do you remember before waking up at the Hyperion?”

“A busted bow and three goons on my tail,” Clint answered. “A car sped out. I think it hit me. After that, I woke up with Coulson sitting in a chair looking like an IRS suit waiting for me to turn in my taxes.”

“And your nightmares?”

“A slideshow of my fucking vampire days.” Clint tossed the half-eaten bagel on the bed. “Figured that out when I found the obituaries of my victims.”

“Why did you go to Waverly?”

He should’ve known Natasha wasn’t one to let go easy. She’d tracked his every move since the last time they’d seen each other.

“I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.” Clint rubbed his eyes. “Got big fat dose of who I wasn’t when I saw Barney and he didn’t know who I was. I fucking stole his brother’s life.”

“Clint…”

“Don’t call me that. It’s not my name.” Saying it made his chest tight and he clenched his fist. He was barely holding his raging pain inside as it was.

“I’m not going to pretend to understand how any of this was possible nor am I going to patronize you with meaningless platitudes.” Natasha scooted closer. “What I do know is that you, Clint Barton, Hawkeye, defied Fury and Coulson by saving my life and bringing me to SHIELD.”

“I’m not him, Tasha,” Clint weakly replied.

“You’re not the Clint Barton who was stupid enough to get himself hit by a car,” Natasha fiercely countered. “Was he a good man? Search his memories and tell me.”

Clint sighed and nodded. “He wanted to be a hero and he tried to be even when he was lousy at it.”

“You know him better than anyone. What would he say if he was here right now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. In your heart, you do.”

“I know what you’re trying to do, Tasha. It doesn’t change what I did.”

“Nothing will, Clint, but that Spike character was right. You had no soul as a vampire.”

“Stop trying to absolve me!” Clint bit out. “I fucking fed on people!”

“I’d never do that!” she fired back. “You came back with a soul and it’s a good one, Clint. Otherwise, Coulson wouldn’t have helped you. I don’t think Angel would have either. You think you stole someone’s life and you’re wrong about that. It was a gift and all this time you made it your own through the soul of the person you used to be before. Don’t throw everything away out of remorse for something that’s been dead and gone for years.”

“You’re saying I should keep being Clint Barton.”

“You are Clinton Francis Barton. Maybe it’s not where you started, but it’s who you are now. You’ll never convince me or Coulson otherwise.”

Clint rubbed his face and shook his head before looking at her. “Leave it to you to boil everything down to its basics.”

Natasha gave him a sardonic grin. “What can I say? I’m a helluva cook.”

“So I go back and pick up my life up like nothing ever happened.”

“Of course not. You’ll learn to live with this just like I had to after the Red Room. We’re survivors, you and I. We take as many good things that come our way we can get our hands on, just like always, Clint.”

“What do you think I should tell Phil?”

“Whatever you tell him, I’ll back you.”

Clint got off the bed and threw the empty Styrofoam away. “I had a bad couple of days. That’s all he needs to know.”

“You sure about that?”

“I’m not pissed at him, if that’s what you’re thinking. I believe Angel when he said they were trying to help me. Telling Phil, would…complicate things. I need as much simplicity as I can get right now.”

“Might be a good thing. You two have needed to get your heads out of your asses for a while now.”

Clint laughed a little and Natasha smiled. “You caught the UST, did you?”

“If there was any more of it, you two would need your own zip code.”

“Maybe I should do something about that when we get back.”

“Good idea.”

~*~

Nick Fury had threatened to bodily carry Phil out of his office if he didn’t go home. Phil was sure he’d do it when the Director had said it without a sarcastic inflection. He did go home for half a day, but was back early the following morning.

The phone call from Natasha had been a relief. He worried endlessly. Enough that he’d tried to reach Angel, but got nothing in return. There was nothing to indicate that Clint knew the truth of his origins.

Just thinking about how much Clint would hate and despise him for his role in how he got him into SHIELD had Phil distracted from his work. Unopened files sat on his desk along with half-completed reports.

Phil refreshed his coffee and went back to his desk. Determined to put the entire matter out of his head temporarily, he opened the laptop and started working.

It was almost lunch time when he heard a knock on the door.

“In.”

When it opened, he was surprised to see Clint.

“Hi.” Clint shoved his hands in his pockets as he stepped inside.

“Hi.”

“Sorry, I didn’t report in and ask for time off.”

“Are you okay?” Phil searched Clint’s eyes.

“I’m good. I needed to clear my head. Nat helped.”

“I’m glad.”

“Me, too.” Uncertain, Clint came closer to Phil’s desk. “I’m ready to go back to work. You got anything?”

Relieved, Phil smiled a little. “As a matter of fact, Fury wants the three of us in Afghanistan. The Ten Rings keeps trying to get into the weapons dealing market.”

“Sounds like fun,” Clint said with a half-grin.

“I haven’t told Natasha this, yet.” Phil searched the stack of files and opened one.

“What is it?”

Phil took the sheet of paper, stood, and gave it to Clint.

“You’ve been promoted. Level 6. Both of you.”

Clint couldn’t hide the surprise. “Wow, this is great. Thanks, Phil.”

“You and Natasha earned it, which means the two of you will start taking separate missions from time to time and running your own ops with teams.”

“Not the end of Strike Team Delta, I hope,” Clint said.

“We’re still the best according to Fury.”

Clint folded the paper in half. “Feel like taking a break for lunch? It’s square fish Friday in the cafeteria.”   

“Sounds perfect, but you still owe me that trashy diner you told me about.”

“Tonight?” Clint asked.

“You sold me on the coffee and the 4am special. I’ll swing by your place in the morning.”

“That early?” Clint chuckled. “You won’t mind me stumbling out wearing sleeper pants and your Captain America shirt that I stole.”

Phil couldn’t resist grinning. “I wouldn’t expect anything less on a first date.”

Just after 4am, Clint and Phil strolled into the little diner for breakfast. They drank horrible coffee, ate perfect pancakes and bacon as they flirted back and forth. When they got back to Clint's apartment, Phil pushed Clint against his door and they kissed each other senseless as the sun was rising.


	8. Chapter 8

No one told Clint that it would be this easy. Books, TV and even the internet proclaimed relationships were hard work. They made it sound like compromise was the great virgin sacrifice that all should be willing to commit to. They either lied or they were all assholes, Clint figured.

What started out as a few dates quickly turned into Clint spending more time at Phil’s than his own apartment. In less than three months, half of his clothes were at Phil’s. There was no planning or Phil formally asking Clint to move in with him. He only knew because he had a key and half of Phil’s dresser was filled with his clothes.

The declaration came one night when Phil simply said, “You should sublet your apartment until the lease runs out.”

Clint almost didn’t hear what Phil said since he was taking the man’s clothes off at the time. He just murmured some sort of affirmative, but Clint couldn’t remember exactly what that was.

It made sense. Phil’s apartment was larger with a second bedroom. They didn’t have time to go on the hunt for a new place together. Plus, Clint wouldn’t give up the barely unused gourmet kitchen for anything. Much to Phil’s chagrin, Clint spent a small fortune on state-of-the-art small appliances.

The toughest arguments were over Phil’s need to have his suits evenly spaced apart which Clint finally ceded the closet to and took the one in the second bedroom. It wasn’t that much of a fight since Clint teased Phil mercilessly for which he got back in spades when Clint insisted that Starsky & Hutch was the best cop show to have ever been on TV. Phil made him sit through six hours of classic Hawaii 5-0. While Phil’s childhood hero had been Captain America, it was Jack Lord’s Steve McGarrett that been a strong influence. The character’s childhood was similar to that of Phil who had lost his father in a random act of violence. Phil’s work ethic was not much different than Steve McGarrett’s. Although, Clint did tease him about his penchant for heroes named Steve.

Still, it was Clint who insisted they watch every episode whenever they were home together.

Being home at the same time wasn’t easy at times. Strike Team Delta were still called on to save the day, bust up a weapons ring or track down the newest bad guy of the week. Orders would come down sending Clint on the other side of the world with another team or putting together his own for specialized missions. Phil’s responsibilities continued to grow and half the time he didn’t bother to unpack when he was home.

Months ago, Clint decided that the discoveries of his origins and past no longer mattered so it wasn’t worth mentioning to Phil. Here and now was important and he was grabbing on with both hands.

He didn’t expect it to come back on him. Clint was going through his worn out backpack intent on replacing it when he found the wadded up paper at the bottom. He opened it up and Barney’s phone number stared back at him.

Clint was taken back to the house, sitting with Barney over coffee and an entire past that wasn’t his own burning bright in memory. Only, it felt like every aspect of it was part and parcel of who he was. He couldn’t imagine being anyone other than Clint Barton. Hell, Clint liked who he was and he loved the life he was living.

Slipping the cellphone out of his pocket, Clint sat on the floor with his back to the wall. He stared at the phone number and knowing just how horrible of an idea it was, he dialed. Clint was desperate for a piece of that back.

“Barney? It’s Aaron…Aaron Cross. You probably don’t remember me…Oh, yeah, I’m good. I ran across your number and I wanted to see how things were…really? That’s fantastic news? He’s big, huh?” Clint faltered as he listened to Barney. “Francis Alexander Barton.” He chuckled. “You’re brother’d probably wonder how you could punish a kid like that…yeah, Frankie sounds perfect.”

Clint spent an hour sitting on the floor talking to Barney.

~*~

He never set out to keep secrets from Phil. As far as Clint was concerned it had nothing to do with Phil Coulson, at least that’s what he kept telling himself with every call and text message. The times when he was home and Phil was trotting across the globe, Clint would go to Waverly for a few days and be back either when it was time for his next mission or when Phil was on his way back.

Less than four years later, Barney’s wife was pregnant with baby number two. By that time, Clint had come to accept the fact that he didn’t tell Phil because he was just too fucking scared. The time had gone by so quickly.

The first time Clint had held little Frankie, he was bowled over in love with the baby. He had tried to tell himself that Frankie wasn’t his nephew, but it rang false in his head with memories so strong of Barney being his brother. Even though it wasn’t Clint’s name he heard after Frankie began talking, the strong love he felt was cemented.

That was when Clint realized the real reason why he had never told Phil. This was as close as he’d ever get to a family and he did not want to give that up. Clint didn’t want to take the chance that Phil would insist on him never seeing Barney or his family again. Sure, at the outset it had been a risky terrible idea from the beginning. Clint knew that. On the off chance that Phil would be under orders to not allow the contact, Clint wouldn’t put the man he loved in that position.

It was easy to rationalize which helped keep the guilt at bay.

~*~

Phil always knew what the night held when he arrived home and heard opera from the other side of the door. If it was Puccini’s La Boheme, it was Clint coming off a bad mission. Marriage of Figaro meant a good mood and playful banter for the evening. Once he’d been surprised to hear Van Morrison playing and Clint had wined and dined him until they fell into bed together. The man could be an irrational romantic.

Tonight, he could hear Carmen and his body thrummed in response. Clint was in a sexy mood and Phil grinned a little. As he came through the door, he was already planning on playing every seduction card in his back pocket.

There were moments, however, that gave Phil pause. He would wonder just how committed Clint was to him. There had been more than one occasion when Clint’s phone would go off and rather than answer, he’d check the number and then decline the call. Phil would ask and then got a noncommittal answer of “it’s not important”, then it would be forgotten such as tonight.

After dinner both men fell into bed together with Habanera playing in the background. Clint moved on top of Phil, ran his hands along the strong thighs, gripped the firm ass and rolled his hips.

Phil loved how Clint overwhelmed every sense and he breathed Clint’s name along the sweaty skin, taking a lick and bite along the way. He was so into the heated friction that Clint was building with every thrust, that Phil barely heard the phone vibrate on the nightstand.

“Your phone,” Phil whispered. Clint was biting his damn ear and stroking them both together.  

“Apparently, I’m not doing a good enough job to keep you distracted.”

Clint licked his ear and traced the outside of it with his tongue. Phil shuddered and the call was quickly forgotten.

Afterwards, sated and happy, Phil relaxed in Clint’s embrace and fell asleep. He wasn’t sure how long he’d slept, only that he’d awoken and Clint wasn’t in bed with him. Phil glanced around the room, noted the empty spot on the nightstand where Clint normally kept his phone. He rolled to his side and was almost asleep when he felt the dip in the bed.

“Who called?” Phil asked after hearing Clint set the phone down.

There was a hesitation as Clint pulled up the covers.

“Nat. She just wanted to touch base.”

A cold fear gripped his chest and his stomach fluttered with nervousness. He gripped the pillow tighter when Clint’s arm draped around his stomach. He felt the kiss on the back of his neck.

“Love you,” Clint said.

“Love you, too.”

Phil closed his eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come for hours. Natasha was incommunicado in Taiwan investigating a new and dangerous illegal drug. The mission was classified and deemed too sensitive for anyone outside of Phil, Fury and Hill. Natasha Romanov would not have broken mission protocol unless absolutely necessary.

Clint was lying.

~*~

It was still a busy time for them. Phil had flown to Malibu to investigate Stark Industries and Clint sent back into Afghanistan when the industrialist and weapons maker Tony Stark disappeared. After the billionaire’s return, Phil came back after the Iron Man announcement and Clint had discovered a Ten Rings encampment with two dozen dead bodies.

To keep any eye on Tony Stark, Natasha was sent in undercover and Phil soon followed. There was more going on with the billionaire playboy than anyone knew. Tony Stark was on a downward spiral.

When Phil called Clint from California was when that nervous cold fear returned. Clint had seemed distant over the phone and when Phil asked where he was, the answer was outside. It was suspiciously vague and Phil didn’t press. It was easy to convince himself that if there was a problem, Clint would come to him.

Fury ordered Phil to New Mexico upon the discovery of a 0-8-4. He got rid of the locals attempting to dislodge the object as if they were King Arthur of old, by bringing in SHIELD scientists dressed in hazmat gear and heard the loud Geiger counters. The sight had them hurrying away.

“Gotta love the classics,” Phil said with a grin at Sitwell.

As they set up the field unit to study the object, Phil requested tightened security and Fury saw fit to have Clint bring in a team to supervise. They hadn’t seen each other face-to-face in nearly two weeks with sporadic phone calls in between. Phil couldn’t hide his relief when Clint emerged from the Humvee.

Few knew of their relationship and both men wanted to keep it that way.

Two nights later, a large blond broke through security, took down experienced SHIELD agents which included Luke Cage. Only Natasha Romanov had gotten the man to his back during a sparring session for which Clint had bragged about while showing off his winnings afterwards.

Phil was on the verge of ordering the shot when Clint had told him he was starting to root for the guy. He trusted Clint’s instincts and ordered him to wait. By the time it was all said and done, Phil knew he wouldn’t get any answers from the blond, Donald the forged ID said, and he let him go.

After sending an agent to follow Donald, Phil headed to the trailer and found Clint drying his bare chest with a towel. He stripped off his wet jacket and tie.

“Did you think he was the once and future king?” Clint asked. When Phil’s shirt was off, he tossed him the towel.

“I’m not sure what I expected.” Phil had hoped the man would have been able to move the object. “I let him go. We won’t get anything out of him here.”

When Phil finished drying, he looked up to see Clint leering with a knowing smile.

“What?”

“I missed you,” Clint said with a shrug.

Phil dropped the towel. “Come over here and prove it.”

“Always up for a challenge.”

Phil gasped when Clint put him against the wall, fit their bodies together and gave him a deep kiss. He moaned into the kiss as a hand fumbled with his belt. A warm hand grasped hold of him and he moved into it.

Clint wasn’t letting up and Phil grabbed his butt to grind him closer. He could feel Clint’s erection against his hip.

The phone on the desk began buzzing and Phil broke the kiss. “Is that mine?”

“No.” Clint stepped back, taking a deep breath.

As Phil adjusted his pants, he saw Clint check the caller ID. “Who is it?”

The buzzing stopped and Clint put the cell in his pocket. “Not important.”

That nervous cold feeling returned with a vengeance and Phil fumbled with the belt. “I need to shower and change.”

“Phil, there’s nothing to say we can’t finish this up at the hotel in town.”

He kept his eyes averted. “No, I’m expecting Sitwell’s report on Selvig and his friend tonight.”

Phil heard Clint reaching for his clothes. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Fury’s got me on a plane first thing in the morning.”

“Nick told me.” Phil turned back to Clint and the distance between them felt a miles apart. He was filled with doubts about himself and Clint’s love. “It’s an important project. You can’t be late.”

“Phil, we haven’t spent any time together in weeks.”

“We’ll talk later.” Phil was out the door before Clint could stop him. He hurried across the compound eager to distract himself from his suspicions of what Clint was doing and with whom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planted an Easter egg of sorts in this fic. It's a nod to a movie one of the Avengers was in, except not as an Avenger. Any guess on what that is?


	9. Chapter 9

Selvig hated him. Well, the scientist hated SHIELD, but yet, here he was in the bowels of an undisclosed base working on a top-secret project surrounded by (and Clint had heard him mutter it under his breath) jack-booted thugs. Scientific discovery trumps all, Clint thought with a shake of his head.

He couldn’t blame Selvig much. Fury had assigned him to security of the Tesseract. From his nest, he eyed every possible entry into the lab, surveyed all personnel on the project, and he arranged surprise security sweeps which had upset the geeks during their testing phases. Clint would watch it all play out from the perch he’d chosen and saw the irritation in Selvig’s eyes whenever he glanced in his direction. Yeah, Clint’s eyesight was that good.

It was during those times that Clint had to think. Not always a good thing for his mind and he did have a tendency to be his own worst enemy in that department.

While Clint was no rocket scientist or astrophysicist for that matter, it didn’t take much contemplation on his part to know why Phil was distancing himself. Clint had a secret, one that Phil also knew, but also his continued involvement with Barney and his family. Addie would soon be having their third child and Clint was immersed in every way from birthday gifts to occasionally babysitting when he did manage to get to Waverly. 

He’d lied to Phil more than once and the guilt weighed on Clint. He tried to make himself believe Phil deserved it since Clint had been lied to in return about his origins, but it rang false in his head. If Angel was telling the truth, Phil had done it to save Clint and he couldn’t be angry for it.

Phil was trying to protect him and Clint couldn’t blame him for that. He could well imagine how Phil would react to learning about his nightmares. He’d even lied about them and Phil believed him, adding to the guilt already plaguing him.

Clint had one of the agents take over while he left to grab a bite to eat. He left the lab and turned a corner down the corridor towards the cafeteria. He started down another hallway and stopped. Leaning against the wall, he slipped out his cellphone and pulled up a photo of him and Phil. It was a selfie taken at Bryant Park two months ago. Both were grinning like idiots after sharing a smoothie during their walk together. Clint smiled in the darkened hallway.

He hadn’t seen or talked to Phil since that night in New Mexico. Clint couldn’t blame Phil for the growing distance between them. He’d read the reports of the Destroyer and SHIELD would have been cleaning up that mess. It wouldn’t have been enough to keep Phil from calling him and the thought of it made his heart clench.

Clint wiped his face, put the phone away and took a deep breath. It was up to Clint to fix this.

He pushed off the hall and turned only to run into another body. Clint froze when he saw Phil staring back at him.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Clint stammered.

“It was an unexpected trip,” Phil told him. “I didn’t know where Fury had me going until I was airborne.”

“Listen, there’s something I have to…”

“We need to talk about…”

Both stopped talking and Phil’s soft grin had Clint’s heart fluttering. Damn, he loved this man.

“You first,” Clint said.

Phil turned. “Follow me.”

Clint did and Phil took him to a storage room. Once inside, he watched Phil lock the door behind them.

“I don’t have much time,” Phil said.

“Me neither.” Clint gazed at Phil and sighed. He had missed him so much.

“Damn it.”

They met halfway in a heated kiss and Clint pushed Phil against the wall. He gripped the suit jacket not wanting to let go. Clint fit his hips against Phil’s and both groaned in response. Phil was pulling up his shirt and Clint stepped back long enough to yank it over his head.

Phil grabbed onto Clint’s hips and brought him close. Their mouths worked back and forth, tongues reaching inside and exploring one another as if it was the first time. He felt Clint’s hands fumbling with his pants and Phil matched the movement.

They ground against one another when their flesh met, heat and friction moved along making their whispered moans and breathing find voice.

“God, I fucking love you,” Clint sighed into Phil’s mouth.

“Clint, please,” Phil murmured back.

It took only moments for them to climax against one another. Afterwards, they leaned against one another catching their breaths still holding onto each other.

Clint finally stepped back and grinned at Phil feeling like a lovesick fool.

“There’s a hell of a lot of closets in this place,” Clint said.

Phil chuckled. “I know. I memorized the plans a few months ago.”

On one of the shelves in the corner was a roll of paper towels. Phil grabbed it and tore one off, then tossed the roll at Clint. As they cleaned up, they beamed at each other making Phil feel like a teenager sneaking out of the house.

He heard Clint’s phone and hid the alarm raging inside. Phil finished and zipped up his pants.

“Shit,” Clint bit out looking at the text. “I gotta get back.”

“Who is it?”

“Someone on my detail. They need me back.”

“Is it?” Phil watched Clint out of the corner of his eye.

Clint picked up his shirt. “What?”

“Nothing.” Phil started adjusting his tie.

“What’s wrong?” Seeing Phil avert his eyes, Clint came closer. “Phil, tell me.”

“Dammit, I didn’t want to do this here,” Phil ground out. He turned. “Who is it?”

“I told you…”

“No! Who are you seeing?”

Clint stilled and then it dawned on him what Phil was talking about.

“You think I’m…”

“Don’t lie, Clint. Not about this.”

“Jesus, Phil, I swear there’s no one. I’d never do that to you or us. Shit, I love you more than anything.”

Seeing the relief come over Phil surprised Clint. Phil really thought he’d been cheating on him. He went to him and pulled Phil into his arms.

“I love you so damn much that it scares me sometimes. You’re too good for me and I never want to lose what we’ve got.”

Phil closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just the phone calls and everything, I thought…” He shook his head. “It’s not important anymore. I love you, too.”

Clint pulled away and nodded. “Yeah, that’s my fault for not seeing it. We do have to talk about some stuff.”

“Yes,” Phil agreed.

“I’ll call you in a few hours when I’m done in the lab.”

They shared another kiss and Phil went to the door. “Hill keeps a case of scotch on base. I’ll get a bottle. I know the perfect place for us to share it.”

“It’s a date,” Clint grinned.

~*~

Less than three hours later, Phil was in the back of a military truck watching the entire complex collapsing in on itself and there was no sign of Clint.  

~*~

A cold haze of blue just at the corner of Clint’s vision gave it a halo effect that surrounded Loki making the demigod appear omnipotent. The dull buzzing in his ears had him only hearing Loki’s bidding and he did it well.

The fight to the Humvee, the chase across the desert and escape into the night had brought out Clint’s well-trained and honed instincts. They were sharper without indecision or muddled questions of loyalty.

Clint took Loki to the catacombs of an underground city where he pulled together old enemies and new ones with promises of wealth and power under Loki’s rule. By the time they had settled in, Clint was left with little to do except find a darkened corner where he could sit and close his eyes for a moment.

Flashes of a young girl with a bloodied face had him flinching and when he opened them, Loki was across the room looking at him with a sharp gaze. Clint averted his face and tried not to think of who that girl might be.

He never saw Loki’s approach until the demigod stood over him.

“Come.”

Without saying a word, Clint followed down the grimy and wet corridor until they got to a private room. Loki closed the door and went to him.

“What creature were you?”

“Sir?”

“You are mortal, but yet not always. You are imbued with a strange magic ,” Loki pressed. “I will not ask again, bowman.”

Clint’s throat was like gravel.

“Vampire, sir,” he answered.  He wanted to hide away in shame, but Loki’s power over him prevented it.

“What is this ‘vampire’?”

“A monster of the night,” Clint replied in a low voice. He tried to stop himself from answering, but couldn’t. “Drinks blood for survival, immortality.”

Then Loki’s mouth stretched into a salient grin, pleased with his words.

“Are there more of you?”

“Yes, sir. I don’t know how many.”

Thoughtful, Loki moved around the room for a moment. He stopped and turned.

“I must have these vampires under my command. They will insure my rule. You may return to your previous state if you so desire.”

Inside, Clint was screaming. Outwardly, he was a soldier standing in front of his god.

“As I said, sir. Monsters. They have no soul and can’t be controlled by anyone.”

Narrowing his eyes, Loki said, “How did you become mortal?”

“I don’t know, sir. I have no memory of what I was before.”

“You were told this.”

“I was turned into a vampire over 200 years ago and somehow brought back as human after I was killed. I was staked through the heart. That’s all I know.”

Loki stared into Clint’s eyes for a moment then motioned towards the thin pipe running along the wall. “Tie your wrists, Barton.”

Without question, Clint went to the pipe and took out a plastic handcuff. It took some doing, but he managed to secure himself to the pipe. Clint pulled on it to make sure he couldn’t escape.

The spear was in Loki’s hand and he lifted it towards Clint.

“In order to retrieve what you lost, it will be necessary to release you from the power of the Tesseract.”

Clint’s vision cleared and he nearly lost his footing from the onslaught of dizziness. He lifted his head and at seeing Loki, he yanked on the bindings.

“You fucking bastard! I will kill you!” Clint yelled.

“Trust me when I say the prospect will never arise, Agent Barton.” With a malevolent leer, Loki raised his hand towards Clint. “Now, let us begin.”

When the cold fingers touched his temple, Clint screamed.

~*~

By the time Phil arrived on the helicarrier, Fury had relayed in grim detail of what happened in the lab with the Tesseract and the demigod known as Loki. As far as Phil had been concerned when he met Thor, they were just aliens from another world. The science was backing up all they had witnessed. How had Loki turned Selving? Clint?

Nothing was making sense.

Phil was forced to put aside his personal feelings and mobilize the Avenger Initiative. It took some doing to track drown Dr. Bruce Banner and once he explained the situation to Natasha, she was on the first available SHIELD quinjet to his location. Fury would handle Captain America.

If what Fury said was true, Clint would be marshalling his resources to aid Loki in whatever goal it was he hoped to accomplish.

Reports of known SHIELD enemies disappearing were coming in and there weren’t enough resources to track them all. All Phil could do was have the most notorious tracked and even that was a monumental task within itself. He spent four hours analyzing the latest intelligence and handing out assignments to the various teams before he left for Stark Tower.

He broke through Jarvis’ security and handed over the data for Tony to study. Phil tried not to let his distraction show, but Pepper’s concerned questions had him lying. When he was back on the elevator, Phil leaned against the wall and sighed.

_Clint, where are you?_

“Jarvis.”

“Yes, Agent Coulson.”

“Would it be presumptuous of me to ask if Mr. Stark instructed you to passively surveil SHIELD without our knowledge?”

There was a slight hesitation.

“I am only at liberty to say he has me undertaking a variety of tasks.”

Phil nodded. “From your information to date, can you list the abilities of the Norse mythological god Loki that is in common with the brother of the Asgardian Thor who graced Earth with a visit not long ago?”

“If I were to have such data it would be limited in scope, Agent Coulson.”

“Best educated guess would be acceptable,” Phil replied. He moved to the center of the elevator when it stopped. The doors remained closed.

“Strength comparable to that of Thor’s,” Jarvis began. “Speed, agility.”

“Is that it?” Phil needed more.

“Reports of Thor’s powers closely align with Earth mythology. It is within reason to believe his stepbrother’s is no different than his mythological counterpart.”

“Stepbrother?”

“According to mythology, Odin took Loki as his adopted son.”

“Continue.”

“Norse mythology indicates Loki was a mischief-maker, an adept liar and an experienced practitioner of magic as well as a shape-shifter when the occasion suits.”

“Did he ever possess the ability to brainwash or bend others to his will?”

“The Loki of Earth mythology reveled in manipulation of those closest to do his bidding. He was quite ambitious in strengthening his power and will over others.”

“Thank you, Jarvis.”

The doors opened and Phil headed to the roof where the quinjet awaited him. Just before walking up the ramp, he stopped and took out his phone to dial Natasha.

“Where are you?” Phil asked.

_“Waiting for my guest.”_

“Natasha, I have to know what happened with Clint when he went to Waverly. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

He could almost see the indecision on her face.

_“He was having nightmares.”_

Phil clenched his fist. He’d been woken up by them on occasion. Clint had blamed them on old missions and Phil hadn’t questioned it.

_“Phil, Clint knows what you did. He went back to the hotel where you and he met.”_

“Damn it!” Phil bit out in a low voice.

“He doesn’t blame you. In fact, he’s glad it was you.”

“How much does he know?”

_“Just what he put together on his own with my help. I found him with Angel. I don’t think he got much before we left.”_

“Did he remember anything?”

_“No. His nightmares were flashes from his old life. Phil…”_

“It’s okay, Tasha. I was foolish to think the truth would never come out.” Phil turned towards the quinjet and saw the pilot in the seat. “I’ll be in touch.”

He put his phone away and walked inside to the pilot.

“I need you to vacate the jet, please.”

“Sir?”

“Now,” Phil ordered.

The confused pilot unstrapped and as soon as he was out, Phil closed the ramp and slid into the pilot’s seat. As the quinjet lifted off, he heard Fury’s voice in his ear.

“Agent Coulson, where do you think you’re going with my plane?”

“Playing a hunch, sir.”

“How long will this hunch take?”

Phil wanted to smile. Nick’s implicit trust would never fail him.

“More than a few hours, I’m afraid.”

“I suppose I can’t convince you to let me send a few people along for the ride.”

“Sir, where I’m going, I’ll have more than enough.”

“Stay in touch.”

Phil signed off and turned the quinjet west.  

~*~


	10. Chapter 10

Since becoming a vampire with a soul, Angel had long ago trained himself to wake from his daylight sleep. Oftentimes it was a noise or a dream/nightmare from centuries long past that would have him pacing the hallways of the Hyperion.

This time it was more of a feeling, a sensation. Someone was here at the hotel. Angel shifted out of the bed careful not to wake Spike and slid his clothes on before slipping out of the room. He made his way down to the main floor and stopped at the sight of a man in the office.

A soft glow was growing brighter and Angel stilled. The books. He started forward and just out of the corner of his eye saw the wooden blade swiping towards him. He stepped back just in time to avoid it from plunging in his heart.

Seeing Clint, Angel couldn’t hide the surprise. The archer’s eyes were a sickly ice blue with no emotion. It was as if the soul inside Clint had been frozen.

“Clint, it’s me, Angel.”

He wasn’t going to let himself be killed, but he’d be damned if he’d finish the job that Clint had begged him for so long ago. Angel’s eyes shot towards the continued glow in the office. They were after the books where so much magical power was stored.   

When Clint lunged for him again, Angel was surprised at the speed and agility. It was as if this was the Penn that had nearly killed him in his vampire state. They fought back and forth and Angel didn’t have to wait long for Spike to rush into the middle of the fight.

Spike tackled Clint to the floor and was thrown back. Clint shouldered up to his feet and flung the knife at Spike who shifted in time for the blade to imbed itself in his shoulder. Spike yelled in pain and fury before yanking it out. Just as he dropped the weapon to the floor, a blast of blue hit him square in the chest sending the vampire to the floor barely conscious.

Angel watched the figure from the office emerge. He’d never seen anyone like him before in his centuries of living.  The inky black hair and malevolent grin spoke volumes about his deadliness. He wasn’t human or demon. Seeing the sharp bladed spear, Angel didn’t move. He watched Clint retrieve the knife.

“Who are you?” Angel asked.

“Loki, of Asgard. And you, a vampire.” Loki smile sharpened. “So much power in such a dismal place. It was sorely neglected.”

“You took it.”

“This had once thought to be a worthless muddy world filled with mindless apes. Oh, how much I have learned and plan to make use of.”

Angel shifted a look to Clint who stood silently at Loki’s side.

“What did you do to him?”

“I freed him. His prowess as a warrior is invaluable. He will even be more powerful as a vampire once again. This new magic will ensure you and your kind will follow me. What you call Earth will soon be under my rule.”

When Angel heard Spike getting to his feet, he gave a deadly grin. “I really don’t think so.”

Loki tilted his head. “We shall see.”

The blasts came from the spear faster than Angel could move. He groaned as he hit the floor and heard Spike moaning a curse.

Loki and Clint turned to leave only to face Phil who held a Phase 2 weapon at the demigod.

“Well, what a surprise,” Loki purred.

“Put the spear down,” Phil ordered.

“Your weapons are useless against me.”

Phil stepped closer. “This is new. Still in the testing phase. I’m curious to see what it does to someone like you.”

The blade coming out of the front of Phil’s chest was more surprise than painful. He couldn’t breathe and he yelled when it was yanked out. Phil’s limbs wouldn’t work and he dropped to the floor near the settee in the middle of the room, the weapon cradled in his lap. His eyes went to Clint who stood unmoving not saying a word. Phil watched the archer’s fist clench and unclench as if he was having an internal war with himself.

Loki started to move past him.

“You’re going to lose,” Phil breathed.

“I have imbued within me the power and magic of two worlds,” Loki proudly stated. “Your undead creatures will soon be following me and the heroes of this world are divided and scattered. How can I possibly lose?”

“You lack conviction.”

Phil pressed the trigger and sharp beam of blue light shot out and knocked Loki to his back.  He was dying and he looked to Clint who hadn’t moved.

“This is not your fault,” Phil whispered to him. “Please live.”

Loki was back on his feet and glanced at Phil. The mortal would be dead soon. He started towards the door.

“Come, Barton. We have work.”

Clint remained gazing at Phil.

“Barton,” Loki snapped.

When Clint was out of sight, Phil closed his eyes briefly. There were so many regrets and Phil could only hope his words got through to Clint. Natasha would help him. That brought some comfort as it became more difficult to breathe.

Phil opened his mouth to speak as Angel scrambled over to him. The weapon was taken out of his lap.

“Take it easy, Coulson,” Angel put his hand behind Phil’s neck.

“Tell Fury…” Phil could only take a small breath. “The…the Avengers…

“You’ll tell him yourself,” Angel promised.

“They needed something to…”

When Phil stopped breathing, Angel didn’t think. He pulled the SHIELD agent close and sunk his fangs into the jugular.

~*~

Nick Fury paced the bridge of the helicarrier and resisted the urge to bark orders at whoever had the misfortune to catch his eye. They weren’t any closer in tracking down Loki or the Tesseract. Hill was pulling double duty by handling Coulson’s job until he got back. Natasha was coming in with Banner and Rogers would soon be arriving as well. He was still uneasy without his one good eye seeing to the details.

When his cellphone rang, Nick saw that it was Coulson.

“About damn time,” he muttered and brought the phone up. “Coulson, how’s the hunch?”

_“Director Fury, it’s Angel.”_

Nick stopped in his tracks.

“You better have a damn good reason why you’re not Coulson,” he warned the vampire.

_“It’s complicated actually.”_

“Angel, put my agent on the phone right fucking now!”

_“I can’t do that.”_

“And why the hell not?” Fury was going to cap someone if he didn’t get answers.

“ _Well_ ,” Angel hedged a bit. “ _Coulson is kind of dead_.”

“Kind of?” Nick repeated. He was getting a damn plane and going to LA so he could stake Angel himself.

_“Technically speaking.”_

Nick pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the coming headache. “Understood.”

_“I have a couple of friends that might be able to help.”_

“How long can you hold?”

“ _As long as you need me to_ ,” Angel answered.

“Do that. I’ll be in touch.” Nick hung up the phone. “Fuck!”

He stalked past the silent agents who had momentarily stilled.

~*~

Angel set the phone on the dresser and glanced at Spike.

“We’re on our own for the time being.”

“Oh, well, that’s bloody fantastic,” Spike replied with his typical biting sarcasm. “How long until we stake this bloke?”

“We’re not.” Angel turned to the bed where an unmoving Phil was chained. The four limbs were stretched to the bedposts.

“So we’re turning humans again, are we?”

“Spike!”

The blond vampire went to Angel. “The prima donna drained every bit of the magic those books possessed. Even if he hadn’t, there was never the power to return a soul to a vampire.”

“I have a plan.”

“Great! He has a plan!” Spike loudly declared. “The magic which returned our souls is dead and gone. Stake him before he wakes.”

“No.” Angel took a moment to clamp down the frustration. “It’s not ending this way. Not after everything.”

“God, you’re still a fucking romantic,” Spike said with disgust. “This is about Cordelia.”

“It’s not. I know you think I love her, but that’s over. This,” Angel said motioning to Coulson’s body. “This isn’t and I have to make it right.”

“It’s not your problem, you daft vampire,” Spike insisted. “This is the game of human life and that is something we have no control over.”

“I brought them together, Spike. Just once…” Angel wasn’t in the mood for Spike’s acidic mockery.

“Just once what?”

“Wouldn’t it be nice to see a happy ending once in a while? You and me, we’ve never really seen that.”

“It’s what we’ve got now." Spike understood it well. He turned his gaze to the bed. “If we can give it to them, why the hell not.”

~*~

It was finally over.

The full weight of the losses weighed heavy on the team as they silently ate shawarma. Afterwards, Natasha took Clint to Stark Tower after Tony had Happy bring a car.

Clint was set on the bed and he looked numbly at Bruce who was on his knees in front of him. Natasha still had her hands on his shoulders.

“I can’t sleep,” Clint argued. His entire body ached with exhaustion and he didn’t want to deal with any more nightmares.

“Clint, you have to,” Natasha softly insisted.

Bruce took out a syringe. “Your electrolytes are through the floor and you’ve gone days without food or rest. If you don’t sleep, you’ll crash hard and I’d rather that not happen suddenly.”

When Clint looked at his hands, he saw dirt and scrapes from the fighting. What couldn’t be seen was all the blood he knew was already there.

“I’m giving you a sedative because if you’re anything like me, you’ll fight sleep without it.”

Clint barely felt the needle in his bicep.

“Natasha, help him get cleaned up and into bed. When he wakes get some food into him.”

“Come on.” Natasha coaxed Clint to his feet.  

~*~

After an hour, when Natasha was sure Clint wouldn’t be waking she pulled away from him and got out of bed. She went into the hallway where the rest of the team waited.

“He’s out,” Natasha informed them. “He won’t be waking for a while.”

“Thor has Loki at a secure location,” Steve explained. “He said his mother will be able to draw out the magic Loki absorbed in LA once they return to Asgard.”

Tony folded his arms and leveled his gaze at Natasha. “And what happens to Barton? Does he get the Loki treatment as well? A lifetime of prison garb?”

“He stays with us,” Natasha said with steel in her voice.

She took out her phone and waited for an answer.

“ _AD Hill_.”

“It’s Romanov. I need to speak to Director Fury.”

_“He’s indisposed. Where are you?”_

“It depends on the answer to my question.”

_“Shoot.”_

“What’s Agent Barton’s status?”

When Hill didn’t immediately answer, Natasha turned her back to the Avengers.

“Maria?”

_“Sorry, I had to get to Fury’s office. Prying ears.”_

“What’s going on?”

_“With Fury not taking WSC calls for the moment, they’re not easy to rein in.”_

“They’re not getting Loki,” Natasha surmised.

_“And they’re pissed as hell about it. Barton’s the next best thing.”_

“Shit.”

_“For the time being, Barton needs to be as far from SHIELD as possible until Fury’s back and we get a handle on this thing. As it is, we’re looking at a possible coup since they ordered a nuke on the city against his orders.”_

Natasha sighed. “We’re at Stark Tower.” She stole a look at Tony. “I’m sure Stark will see to it SHIELD remains off the premises.”

When she turned back around, Tony had called for Jarvis and was already tightening security.

“ _Give me 48 hours. I should know something by then. Stay out of sight yourself_ ,” Maria advised.

“We’ll need at least that much time for Clint to get back on his feet.”

“ _Don’t contact me_.”

Natasha hung up the phone and turned back to Steve and Bruce.

“They’re not getting him.”

She spun around and headed back to Clint.

~*~

Angel couldn’t hide his relief when he saw Nick Fury with Willow and Giles as they entered the lobby. He noted the heavy black bag over the Director’s shoulder.

“I didn’t think you’d get them here so fast,” Angel said.

“Doubt me again and I’ll stake you for real next time,” Fury replied with an arched eyebrow.

“Giles, Willow, thanks for coming.”

Giles adjusted his glasses and gave Nick an unsure look. “I don’t think we had much choice, Angel.”

“Big scary patch guy,” Willow shrugged. “It’d be kinda hot if girls weren't my thing.”

“Is Coulson awake?” Nick asked.

“We’ve managed to keep him down for the time being. It won’t last much longer, though,” Angel answered. “As long as you brought supplies, he’s not going anywhere.”

When Nick started for the stairs, Angel stopped him.

“He’s not your friend right now. No matter what he says, it’s a ploy.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Angel,” Nick reminded him.

The group went to the room and before they could go inside, Spike stepped out. He grinned at seeing Willow.

“Well, if it isn’t Willow Ufgood.” Spike hugged her.

“Bavmorda yourself,” Willow grinned.

Spike glanced at Giles. “Professor.” He did a once over of Nick Fury. “Nice coat.”

“I get that a lot,” Nick drawled.

“How’s Coulson?” Angel asked.

“He came around a few minutes ago. Colorful fellow, you’ve got there,” Spike remarked.

“Let’s get this fucking party started.”

Nick opened the door and stepped inside with Willow and Giles close behind. He didn’t waver in the least at seeing Phil in his full vampire state with fangs and yellow eyes.

“Hey, Phil,” Nick said as he dropped the bag on the floor. “Remember how you saved my ass on that Tangier op back in ’95. I finally get to pay you back for that.”


	11. Chapter 11

It took over 48 hours for Clint to feel close to human. He couldn’t ever call himself one again, but with sleep and food, his body wasn’t going to collapse from bone-weary exhaustion. His heart on the other hand was another matter.

The nightmares were back only it was Phil screaming at him with blood seeping from his eyes while Clint stood and watched. The sick sound coming from Phil happened over and over. The protruding spear coming through his chest with bright blood dripping replayed every time he closed his eyes.

Natasha and the rest of the team were always close by and for a little while it seemed to help until Clint closed his eyes. No one had any answers to offer him. SHIELD was on lockdown and information wasn’t easy to come by. Jarvis had come up empty and Nick Fury was nowhere to be found.

Decision made, Clint slipped out of Stark Tower while the team was dealing with the aftermath of the invasion. He only had a short window to get out of New York City. He’d gotten Jarvis to agree to notify the Avengers of his absence if he wasn’t back in a few hours. It was enough time to get a flight to LA.

Angel, who had been his sire, his friend, his enemy and now the vampire was the only one who might be able to grasp the suffering that was tearing through Clint. Filled with remorse and shame for all the havoc and terror Clint had brought on those closest to him, he had to figure out how to go on with his life.

Phil wanted him to live and Clint wouldn’t let him down.

~*~

When Clint was through the doors of the Hyperion, the first person he saw was Angel sitting on the vintage round lobby sofa with cell phone in hand. He stopped a few feet away as Angel was getting to his feet.

“Clint,” Angel said unable to hide his surprise.

“Angel.” Clint was having trouble meeting his eyes, but made himself do it. “You’re the one person I can talk to right now.”

“You have to know…” Angel began.

“Just shut up and let me say this,” Clint interrupted. “Phil’s dying wish was for me to live and to do that, I need your help.”

Hearing heavy footsteps, both turned to see Nick coming down the stairs. Nothing could have shocked Clint more.

“Director Fury? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the same damn thing, Barton. This is off the books.”

“What?”

Nick put his hands on his hips. “You don’t know.”

“Know what?” Clint asked.

“I was just about to tell him, Nick,” Angel interjected.

“Tell me what?”

“Second floor, sixth door down,” Nick instructed. “Don’t get carried away. That’s an order.”

Clint looked from Nick to Angel not understanding them. He took a step back and then turned towards the stairs. Confused, he made his way to the upper floor and found the room. Standing at the door, he remembered this room. Angel had brought him here and then Phil came for him.

He gripped the knob and stepped inside. For a moment, he just saw a figure with covers up to the chest. Then he realized it was Phil and his breath hitched. The last thing Clint wanted to see was Phil’s body. He closed his eyes and leaned on doorknob as he remembered that sharp sound of pain as Phil was stabbed and the look of utter shock on his face.

“Clint.”

He shook his head. Now, he was hearing things.

“Clint.”

“Stop it. You’re not real. I killed you,” he mournfully whispered. Clint didn’t have the strength to move from his spot.

“Open your eyes, Clint. Please.”

Clint took a deep breath and then made himself look at the bed.

He was a bit pale, but it was Phil staring back at him. Clint almost ran from the room. If this was a dream, he was staying for every damn bit of it.

“Come here.”

He forced his feet to move until he got to the bed. Phil patted a spot and Clint sat next to him. He could feel Phil’s thigh next to his hip. It was starting to feel real.

Clint’s eyes zeroed in on Phil’s neck and he saw the puncture wounds. He recoiled and Phil grabbed his hand before he could get away.

“I’m human, Clint. Feel my skin.”

Touching Phil’s hand that had a hold of his wrist, the warmth of it touched his own and he almost started crying again.

“Angel brought me back,” Phil explained. “Fury showed up with a few friends and they used a gypsy spell to bring back my humanity.”

“You’re here,” Clint said. His eyes raked over Phil. “I thought I killed you.”

“Loki did. Not you. Never you.”

Clint laid his head on Phil’s chest and held on as he cried. “I thought I lost you. God, Phil!”

Phil kissed the top of Clint’s head and put his arms around him.

“I’m here, Clint. I love you and will never be lost to you.”

Clint raised up and looked down at Phil. “You sure you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“I’m better than fine now that you are here.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me or Nat?”

“Nick wanted me to get some strength back plus the WSC had caused some significant problems. This had to be kept off the books. They can never find out about any of this.”

There was some hesitation in Clint’s eyes and Phil interlaced their hands. “What is it?”

“I remember everything. From before you found me here. I was a vampire.”

Phil had a slight sardonic grin. “So was I.” He turned more serious. “I should’ve told you. It was a mistake to keep it from you, but I was afraid I’d lose you.”

“Loki somehow brought everything back and that’s how he found this place. Thor’ll be taking him back before the WSC can get their hands on him. He’ll get some Asgard justice.”

“I owe you an apology, Clint.”

“No,” Clint said shaking his head. “You saved me, Phil. You and Angel both. I owe you everything.”

“When I first met you I was attracted to you, but more than that, Clint…I knew there was a good man inside.”

“You believed in me and I never had that before.” Clint smiled a bit. “It’s all fucking strange now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve got the memories of two lives in my head now, both as Penn and Clint Barton. You’d think everything would be muddled up to the point that I didn’t know who I was.”

“Who are you?” Phil wanted to know how Clint saw himself now.

“Is it fucked up to say both?” Clint took hold of Phil’s hand and rubbed his thumb across a finger. “Nat said something when I found out the truth and it didn’t make a lot of sense then. I believe it now. She told me I had a good soul before becoming a vampire and I was given a second chance through the life of a decent man who would’ve joined SHIELD had he gotten the opportunity. I know it as surely as I’m sitting here, Phil.”

Phil cupped Clint’s cheek and smiled. “You amaze me. I’ve never loved you more than I do right now.”

“I love you, too.”

Clint leaned down they met with a kiss filled with promise and renewal. He sat up and took a deep breath.

“There’s another thing I have to do.”

“What’s that?”

“First off, you have to know that I’ve been lying to you. I fooled myself into thinking it didn’t matter, but it did. I had no business keeping this from you.” Clint gave himself a moment and seeing the trust in Phil’s eyes, he felt stronger. “The first time I went to Waverly, I saw Barney. I gave him an old alias.”

“It must’ve been a shock when he didn’t recognize you.”

“It was. The next thing I know, we’re sitting at the table drinking coffee and he’s telling me about his life. After I left, I kept in touch with him. When you were out of town, I’d go for a visit if I was between missions. Phil, in my heart he’s still my brother. I’ve never been able to separate myself from that and even with remembering everything, it’s still as strong as it ever was. I can’t help but love him. Does that make sense?”

“Of course, Clint. The memories and your soul are what make you who you are. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“I have to tell Barney the truth, Phil. About me, his brother. Everything.”

“Are you sure you want to do that? He may not understand.”

“Worse than that. He might think I’m crazy,” Clint replied with a huff of laugh. “I don’t have the right to call myself Clint Barton. I owe the original and his brother the truth. Whatever Barney decides to do with that, I’ll accept it even though he’ll probably kick my ass.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“Let me go with you.”

“Really?”

“Well, I can confirm what you tell him and more importantly, I love you and want to be at your side no matter what. We’ll do it together if you’ll allow me.”

Relieved, Clint said, “Yeah, that’d be great. Thank you, Phil.”

They kissed again.

“Just think,” Phi said with a smile. “We’ve both been vampires, we both died and we both came back.”

“I guess we do have more in common now.”

“I was trying to lead up to asking you to marry me,” Phil grinned.

“You know the answer to that, but once we get home I expect a better proposal and an expensive restaurant.”

“I promise.”

~*~

**EPILOGUE**

The sun was high overhead and the July summer heat was nearing its peak as Phil and Clint emerged from the car at the farmhouse where Barney Barton and his family lived. Their gazes crossed and after a nod from Phil they went towards the house.

Barney emerged carrying a swaddled baby in his arms. He smiled at seeing Clint, but then grew confused when he laid eyes on Phil.

“Hey, I remember you,” Barney said. He looked over at Clint. “You found that lawyer?”

“Barney,” Clint began. “There are some things I have to talk to you about. It’s important.”

“Addie’s upstairs taking a nap and the kids are at a birthday party. Come inside.”

They followed Barney in to the living room and watched him gently lay the baby in a bassinet. After he made sure the infant was sleeping, he took a chair nearby.

“So, what’s this about?”

Phil glanced at Clint. “Mr. Barton, to begin with it was my organization which acquired this house and made sure it was yours to do with as you saw fit. The hope was you would change your life for the better and not look back.”

“I…uh…what?”

“It was because of me, Barney,” Clint stated. “Just let me tell you the whole thing before you kick us out.”

How to begin, Clint didn’t know so he just started telling it like a story that was told over campfires. He got to the part about waking up at the Hyperion and believing he was Clint Barton. Clint saw Barney’s wide eyes and when he didn’t say a word, he continued. He talked about joining SHIELD, the good he did and the lives he saved. Phil added in his role in Clint’s life and they finished up with Loki, the invasion and the aftermath.

“So, you understand, Mr. Barton, it’s important these details remain classified. You can never speak of it to anyone,” Phil explained.

“No one would believe me,” Barney muttered. He pressed his fingers in his eyes and rubbed, then scrubbed his face with his hand. “All the times you came here, played with my kids, babysat so Addie I could have a date night and stayed with us wasn’t because you were an old friend of my brother’s.”

“No,” Clint answered in a low voice. “I know it’s a lie, but I can’t help but feel like you and your family were a part of my life. Still are in a way, I guess. I’m here because I’ve been Clint Barton and I didn’t want to take anything away from the brother you loved.”

Barney sighed and pushed up from the chair. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He walked to the kitchen, took a bottle of whiskey down and filled a glass. He drank the liquid and went back to the living room where the men still sat. “The one thing I know about my brother is that he was the most polite asshole you’d ever meet. I swear to fucking god that kid would apologize to an ant if he had the misfortune of getting in its way.  That’s our momma for you. The manners never took with me, but they sure did with him when we were kids.” Barney finished off the drink and set it down. He shook his head with a look at Clint. “Some things never change.”

“What are you talking about?” Clint asked.

Clint was surprised by Barney leaning over, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him to his feet. Without letting go, Barney said, “You’re apologizing for shit you had no control over.”

“I’ve been living a lie.”

“A lie?” Barney asked with disbelief. “Bro, the last time I saw you I beat the hell out of you, called you worthless.”

Clint shuddered at the memory and Barney grinned at seeing it.

“You remember how much I hurt you and not just the physical kind, don’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. The tears were filling Barney’s eyes. “I lost my brother that day long before he died. The regret hurts more than I can ever say. Nothing has ever made it go away. Not even Addie, as much as I love her.” Barney put a hand on Clint’s cheek. “I wanted you around from the get-go for a reason.”

“I wanted it to be true, too.”

“It was, still is,” Barney said. “You always wore you heart on your sleeve, bro.”

“Barney,” Clint brokenly whispered. “So many times I wanted to tell you the truth. I wanted to be your brother so much.”

Barney pulled him close and Clint wrapped his arms around him relishing the love he had thought was never his to have.

“You’re my brother, the most important part of him. Thank you for bringing him back to me.”

Clint stepped away and smiled as Barney wiped a tear from his cheek. “You should know the name I was born with.”

“Hey,” Barney said raising a finger at Clint. “It’s Clinton Francis Barton. Anyone who says otherwise will get a word from me and more if they don’t like it.”

“Okay.”

Barney grinned. “Okay. Now, I’m gonna go get the kids. You two stay here and babysit while I’m gone. I’ve had a brisket in the smoker all day and you both are staying for dinner.”

Clint glanced over his shoulder at Phil who had a handkerchief at his eye. They smiled at one another.

“You got it,” Clint said.

“Say that again?” Barney raised an eyebrow.

“Bro.”

“That’s more like it.”

After he left, Clint turned to Phil and then went to the sleeping baby.

“Can you believe it?” Clint asked.

“Easily. You and your brother love each other.”

“Yeah, he is.” Clint couldn’t imagine being any happier. “Phil.”

Phil put his arm around Clint’s waist. The infant’s eyes had opened and gazed up at them.

“What?”

“I want to get married here, at the farmhouse.”

“If you’d like. It won’t be legal.”

“It will be someday.”

Clint had no doubts whatsoever. He picked up the baby and set her in Phil’s arms who looked alarmed.

“Relax. She doesn’t have any teeth and won’t bite. I’ll set the table.”

After a wink from Clint, Phil smiled.

 

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long for me to get updated. RL sucks sometimes.


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